Breaking my heart
by Quiet Time
Summary: Tosh is always in the background and is too fascinating to leave there. Rated T just to be careful - dark themes. Disclaimer here because I forget it in the chapters - I don't own the characters or concepts
1. Chapter 1

**Timeline – pre season one. **

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Torchwood characters or concepts.**

_4/8/10 – Made some minor updates. I watched Fragments again and realized I had some details wrong. (Tosh __**did**__ have a window in her cell!)_

The Toshiko Sato who joined Torchwood wasn't the same woman who'd been dragged into the Unit prison. Not completely.

Same body, of course. Same brilliant mind within. But she was different. Broken, and pieced back together. Afraid. So afraid. The only thing holding her together was the unshakeable determination that this would _never_ happen to her again.

How long had she been locked in this cell? Tosh had soon lost track. She slept so much it was impossible to mark how many days or nights she'd spent there. The sun struggled through the bars of her window every day, the moon sometimes marked the nights. But if she slept, and woke up to the dark – how did she know how many days had passed in between? The Toshiko she had been burrowed deep inside and hid, screaming out her fear and loneliness.

That cell. That guard. And the most terrifying thing of all was she'd never even known his name.

The first few times he'd come to her, he'd spoken softly. Brought her tiny things. Soap that didn't stink. Shampoo. Food that was hot, instead of lukewarm from waiting who knew how long before being delivered. She'd thought he was decent. Trying to bring some comfort into the miserable lives of his prisoners. Ha.

Toshiko knew about the Stockholm syndrome. In a way, it had been interesting feeling it work within her. But before long, she'd become obsessed with, well, she just called him Him. He never told her his name, and his name badge was always missing when he entered her cell. Oh, those moments. She literally lived for the moments He spent in her cell. Grateful for the tiniest attention. Delighted by those touches, to begin with. She craved human contact, felt almost herself again in His arms. But it didn't last. As soon as He had her submission, the tenderness stopped. And she couldn't protest, because if she so much as hesitated in his embrace or pulled away from his probing hands, He punished her, simply by His absence. She couldn't bear being alone, not now He'd addicted her to his presence. Before long she was nothing more than a vessel to be used as He wished. Tenderness turned to callousness. Callousness to brutality. Never enough to leave a mark – not on her physical self, at least. But inside Toshiko was scarred forever. And after all that, the time came when she supposed she wasn't even an amusement anymore. The visits stopped. The loneliness returned.

Toshiko lost herself in planning for a future she scarcely believed would happen. She had nothing but time to think. To decide how it would be, if by some miracle she ever escaped. It seemed to her that there were two main factors that had been her downfall. Love, too much of – and Power – not enough of.

Love. Love had been her downfall. Love for her mother had made her play into those terrorist's hands. The yearning for love had made her easy prey for HIM. Love, therefore, was dangerous. So Tosh would never feel love again. Or anything else, perhaps, just to be on the safe side. Not if she could help it. This, she realized, was what it truly meant to know your heart was breaking. This knowledge that it would never be safe to truly feel again.

Power. She'd been powerless. Unit had the power to lock her away for ever. The guard - He had the power to abuse her as he wished. Tosh had no power against them. So she would never be powerless again. That would take a bit more work.

Then one day Captain Jack Harkness strode into her life. He radiated power. He had taken her away from Unit. Therefore he must have more power than Unit. A mixed blessing, because Toshiko was in _his _power, now. Totally and completely. Existing at his whim every bit as much as she'd existed at the whim of Unit. She owed him her freedom, her sanity, if not her life. And she was boundlessly grateful for her freedom, but fear tempered her gratitude. There was a streak of ruthlessness in this man. He wouldn't have freed her if he hadn't had a use for her. Her freedom depended on working for him. And deep within Tosh was the abiding fear that if she didn't please him, he'd cease to protect her. And she'd be back in that cell again.

But she did please him. The Torchwood software and databases grew and flourished under her care. She expanded them, polished them, bringing the power that is knowledge to her fingertips. Before long she had made herself invaluable to Captain Jack Harkness. The fear receded. Tosh was able to take a real interest in this new world. This new world, this new life that was Torchwood. She lost track of the days, the weeks, the months, losing herself in her work.

The Hub was amazing. So much technology. So advanced. And the work they did was fascinating. All artifacts came to her first, for examination. Tosh found an alien artifact that absorbed knowledge. And she wasn't alone any more. Apart from Jack, who still scared her somewhat, there was a woman called Suzie and a man called Owen.

Suzie was strange. Bright and friendly on the surface, hard as diamond beneath. And she was obsessed with the afterlife. They'd had many discussions about the afterlife, this strange team she found herself in. Jack maintained there was nothing but darkness, arrogantly, as if he knew beyond doubt. And how could he possibly? How could anyone? Toshiko had been raised with an unshakeable faith in Christianity. And she still believed it. After all, she'd prayed every day in that cell, for someone to rescue her. And it had happened.

The resurrection glove fell through the rift. They all tried it. Tosh felt it drawing something from her as her hand slid inside the strangely warm metal. She had no problem with taking power from artifacts, but she would not give them anything in return. Giving would make her vulnerable. Giving would end in hurt. She pulled her hand away, insisting she felt nothing. Suzie took the wretched thing, embraced it, sold her soul to it.

And Owen. There was something in Owen she recognized. Something about the way he hid behind that veneer of sarcasm. He'd been hurt too, she decided. But his way of handling it was poles apart from hers. While she had withdrawn from the world, Owen drowned himself in excess.

It occurred to Tosh that perhaps she and Owen could help each other break through their self-imposed barriers. But when her tentative approaches resulted in jealous rages from Suzie, Tosh withdrew. For the best, really. She didn't really want to feel anything, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Timeline – Still pre season one. **

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Torchwood characters or concepts.**

_4/8/10 – Made some minor updates. I watched Fragments again and realized I had some details wrong. And I fixed some typos!_

"So you've been here a while now. How do you like working for Torchwood, Toshiko?"

Tosh looked up, startled by Jack's voice. She'd been so absorbed in the program she was running that she hadn't heard him approach. Then again, she knew how silently he could move when he wanted to.

"I like it very much, Captain Harkness," Tosh answered formally, eyes down.

"I've told you before, it's Jack," he reproved, moving closer and propping one hip on the edge of her desk. Another deliberate invasion of her personal space. Tosh's heartbeat accelerated. And that smile.

She knew Jack flirted with everyone. That it was how he greeted people, his way of setting people at ease – or ruffling them, if that was what he wanted to do. His chief method of extracting information without the subject even realizing what he was doing. His customary way of apologizing, even, when he was about to interrupt her work, the way he'd just done. That it didn't necessarily mean he'd take it any further.

On the other hand, she was very aware of the fact that there were only the four of them in Torchwood. That given the secrecy and the pressure of their work, it wasn't really wise to get involved with anyone from outside. And that Jack was lonely. Tosh knew loneliness intimately, and she could recognize it looking back at her out of someone else's eyes. Not that she necessarily wanted to do anything about it. With her history, the mere thought of being touched by a man again made her stomach roil. But who else was there?

Suzie and Owen were together. Suzie wasn't very secure in her hold on Owen, if she had a hold on him at all, so she was hardly going to risk it by responding to Jack's flirting. And Owen's reaction when on the receiving end of Jack's charm had nearly made Tosh laugh out loud.

Jack had a steady stream of one-night stands, which didn't dim the loneliness in his eyes by even a fraction. They all knew about his escapades. Although Jack's actual bunker was private, there was no other part of Torchwood that escaped the CCTV, and it contained ample evidence of Jack's successes. Owen and Suzie relished describing those incidents. Tosh hated overhearing those discussions, even being drawn into them by the other two. It made her wonder if there'd been that sort of thing in the Unit prison. She felt nauseous, wondering whether the other guards had viewed what had happened with HIM, making the same sort of disgusting comments Suzie and Owen did about Jack. She'd started getting into the CCTV herself and deleting the evidence, which had earned her a heartfelt thank you from Jack when he realized what she was doing.

And since then the frequency of Jack's approaches to her had increased. She knew by now that he was a far finer person than the guard who had abused her. He'd probably accept a refusal with good humor; leave her alone if she asked him to. Probably. But still, she _was _in his power. He could send her back…If she displeased him. Would rejection displease him enough for that? He'd laughed off Suzie's rejections, but then, Suzie had Owen to protect her. Tosh had no-one.

"Toshiko?" Jack's voice again. He'd continued speaking and she hadn't heard a word.

"Sorry…Jack," Tosh answered apologetically. She forced herself to focus on the scrap of paper that had appeared on the desk in front of her.

"Would you run a background check for me? This guy knows about Weevils. I might need to track him down and Retcon him."

"Of course, Jack." But her brow creased. "But…um…." What on Earth was wrong with her? She'd nearly argued with him. "I'll run the check and have a summary to you by morning," she finished professionally.

"Go ahead, tell me what you were thinking," Jack encouraged. "I like hearing my team's opinions. Even if I don't always follow them." His smile, Toshiko decided, could melt an iceberg. She couldn't help smiling in return.

"Just thought you'd have taken care of that already," she said in a rush.

The smile turned up another notch. It'd melt an entire icecap now.

"Well," Jack drawled, "He did kind of get a Weevil off me. I thought it might be a bit ungrateful to wipe his memory without checking that it was justified."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm thinking he might be useful on the team," Jack continued. "What do _you_ think?"

Why is asking me? Tosh thought in a panic. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I make him angry? And he was waiting for an answer.

"Err. Well, you wouldn't have to go after the Weevils alone anymore," she said finally. "If he's already helped you with one." Surely he couldn't be offended by that.

"You're worried about me? I'm flattered." That flirty tone again. Oh God, Tosh thought. I can't. I can't, not after…

"Actually," Jack's tone changed from flirty to thoughtful. "It's not a bad idea, getting the rest of you out into the field. Owen and Suzie already know how to handle weapons. What would you say to some firearms training, Toshiko?"

Learning how to defend herself? Carrying a weapon of her own? Oh _yes_.

"I'd like that," she said, stammering in her eagerness. "I really would."

The smile ratcheted up to global warming level. "No time like the present. Shall we?"

"With you?" Toshiko literally stopped breathing. Alone with Jack in the shooting range. Alone with Jack _anywhere_. Could she refuse him? Did she even want to?

The look Jack shot her was full of exaggerated offence. An eyebrow quirking up. Eyes twinkling. Damn, he was attractive. Maybe she could go through with this after all.

"I assure you, I'm very good with my weapons, Tosh. Sorry, can I call you Tosh?"

"Most people do." Tosh forced a smile onto her face. Flirting wasn't really that difficult, if she put her mind to it. And her safety might depend on it. Maybe he wouldn't send her back to Unit if she refused, but he _definitely _wouldn't send her back if she pleased him. "Toshiko's a bit of a mouthful," she added, meeting his eyes with her own before dropping them.

Jack chuckled. He extended a hand. "Come on. Let's get you armed and dangerous. Though I'm beginning to suspect," he added, as she took his hand and allowed him to lead her away, "That you already are."

It was fine to begin with. Jack showed her a staggering range of weapons. He described how each one worked, how they differed from each other. Loading and unloading. And he was a good teacher. Tosh actually began to enjoy herself. She absorbed it all, did it all perfectly, glowing under the praise Jack heaped on her for learning so quickly. But then it was time to select a weapon and fire. Her first shots went wide, too high, too low. Jack began calling advice from the sidelines.

"Straighten your back. One arm, not two, with that one. Hold your wrist firm. Squeeze the trigger, don't jerk at it." Too many orders, she couldn't get them all straight.

"Here," Jack said finally, "Let me show you."

Jack moved closer, adjusting her arms, nudging her into the correct stance. She tried again. Better, but she still couldn't get it quite right. And Jack moved closer still, aligning her arms with his, his chest pressing against her back to straighten it.

"OK, now let's fire," he encouraged. His cheek pressed against hers so he could see down the sight of the pistol she was trying to use. She felt his breath warm her face. And her resolve deserted her completely. She couldn't do this. She just couldn't.

And something deep within Toshiko snapped and screamed. The very soul within her whimpered. Jack's arms around her, his body against hers, it terrified her, for all that he was supposedly just showing her the correct stance. The smell of him was overpowering. He was too close. The tentative trust and faith she'd begun to develop in him vanished in an instant, drowned beneath a tidal wave of fear. She was afraid to resist. Resistance might earn her a dismissal, back to her cell. But she was more afraid of submission. Because Jack was more powerful by far than the HE that haunted her nightmares. If she submitted to Jack, all that was left of Toshiko would vanish.

Between one fear and another, she simply froze. Literally froze. She felt cold, inside and out. Jack released her abruptly and moved away.

"Someone's hurt you." A statement. Not a question. He was angry, she could hear that in his voice, but somehow she knew the anger wasn't directed at her. Still, she didn't answer. Couldn't. Her teeth were chattering.

"I can't promise you'll never be hurt in Torchwood," Jack said softly. "But not that way. Never again. I promise."

Toshiko leaned against a wall and trembled. The breath rasped in and out of her lungs.

"Don't send me away," she whispered. "Don't send me back. I can't go back."

Jack looked with pity at the terrified woman before him, angry with himself for not realising there was more to her reserve than simple shyness. It was so obvious, now. And he'd made things worse.

"I'm not sending you back, Toshiko," he said gently. "You're part of Torchwood. An important part. You're excellent at your job. Better than I'd hoped, even. You don't," he paused, wondering how to phrase the rest. "You don't have to do anything _else_ to earn your place here, or to keep it. If I've given you any other impression, then I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Tosh shook her head, trying to get her brain working again. He wasn't angry. He was _sorry_. Was he really? Or was he going to take her home and fill her full of Retcon?

"I'll get Suzie to drive you home," Jack continued, his voice level and even. "And she'll do the rest of your firearms training. Is that OK?"

Tosh nodded numbly. She didn't like Suzie, but she understood what Jack was trying to do, and she was staggered. He really _was_ sorry. He was trying to make her feel safe. Maybe she _was _safe. Relatively. For now. As long as she kept doing her job. And she could do that.

Owen watched Suzie and Tosh leave with raised eyebrows. "She's on the verge of going into shock," he commented, pulling out his phone. He tapped in a message. "Telling Suzie to stay with her tonight," he explained. "She might need someone."

"Good idea," Jack agreed.

"What happened down there?" Owen demanded.

"Firearms training," Jack said shortly.

Owen snorted.

Jack sighed. "I didn't do anything, Owen. Hell, do you really think I would?"

Owen stared at Jack for a moment, assessing. "No," he admitted. "You wouldn't. Not without an invitation. You're a sleaze, but you aren't a creep. Not completely."

"Gee thanks," Jack answered sarcastically.

"So what happened?" Owen persisted. "I'm her doctor now. I need to know."

"I don't know," Jack answered. And he didn't, but he could guess. But he wanted Owen to draw his own conclusion. Maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was wrong. "She had a meltdown when I was putting her into the right stance."

Owen nodded thoughtfully, frowning. "Fine until you touched her, right?"

Jack nodded. Owen had obviously reached the same conclusion he had, and neither of them liked it.

"Poor little cow," Owen said. He sighed regretfully. "Guess it's hands off then. Pity. Suzie's getting a bit boring."

Jack did something he rarely did, though he was frequently on the receiving end. He rolled his eyes.

Curled in her bed that night, hearing the comforting sounds of Suzie moving around in her lounge room, Toshiko admitted the most fearful thing of all. That, for an instant, she had _wanted_ to submit. Jack Harkness was quite simply the most attractive man she'd ever met. But love and power had been her downfall and he represented both. It wasn't' safe to trust him, to like him, and she'd begun to feel both. Tosh forced herself to remember the cell. To remember what had happened the last time she allowed herself to trust someone. Icy fear poured back into her broken heart. She froze again, from the core out. And the ice felt safe.

**Hi to anyone who is reading this. I know it's a bit darker than my usual stuff, so I would appreciate feedback on how I'm doing. And it will get better!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Timeline – Still pre season one. **

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Torchwood characters or concepts.**

_Endless thank yous to harlemSdawn and brionyjae for the reviews._

Suzie drove Tosh into work the next day. Suzie had spent all of their waking time trying to find out what had happened at the shooting range and she still hadn't given up. So far Tosh hadn't been able to come up with anything better than the excuse that she hadn't eaten all day, and the physical effort had been too much. Suzie didn't believe her, and she was annoyed. "We have to trust each other in this team," Suzie finally. "If you can't trust me, how can we work together?"

Tosh sighed. She had no intention of trusting Suzie. Suzie's expression when working with that glove or that knife was unsettling. No, Tosh couldn't trust her. Tosh had decided it was safer not to trust anyone. Well, maybe Jack. Maybe. He'd been very good to her yesterday. Kind, even.

And Jack wanted Suzie to give Tosh the rest of her firearms training. So she should try to get on her good side, which shouldn't be too difficult. Suzie was arrogant. Tosh suspected that Suzie reveled in her position as second-in-command, that she like feeling superior to the others. And, Tosh reasoned, if she feels superior to me, she'll stop worrying I'm about to steal Owen out from under her nose.

"I do trust you," Tosh lied.

Suzie smiled encouragingly. "Tell me then," she coaxed.

"But I'm, well, I'm embarrassed to admit it," Tosh said meekly. "But the guns scared me." Suzie would accept that, she was sure, even though it was another lie. Holding a weapon was the first thing in months that _hadn't_ scared Tosh. She'd actually felt powerful, until she'd realized how bad she was at using it. I really do need lessons, Tosh realized. And I'd much rather Suzie teach me than either of the men. And since that was what Jack had wanted, too, she could please herself and the boss at the same time. Without bodily contact. Which ticked all the boxes on her survival list.

Suzie smiled condescendingly. "Nothing wrong with that. Weapons _are_ dangerous."

"But Jack said I have to learn how to use them if I want to go into the field," Tosh said eagerly. "And I want to do field work. I want to do whatever Torchwood needs me to do." And that _was_ the truth. Torchwood had become Toshiko's life.

Suzie nodded approvingly. "That's more like it." She paused. "Jack asked me to take over your firearms training. Would you like that?"

Tosh smiled. "Yes, please."

"We'll start this afternoon, then," Suzie said decisively.

It was the first time Toshiko had successfully manipulated anyone, instead of being manipulated herself. It made her feel stronger. Powerful, even.

Tosh pondered that the rest of the way back to the Hub. Humility and submission, she realized, could be every bit as powerful as strength and arrogance, if she used them correctly. And they were much more natural to her than projecting an arrogance she didn't feel. Staying in the background had served her well when she'd been working for those terrorists. No one around her had suspected anything _of _her, or expected anything _from_ her. So she would stay that way. Stay in the background, and watch, and learn. Grow strong inside. Didn't matter what people thought of the outside, after all.

So that was sorted. She could still be herself, as much of herself as was left. And Suzie was sorted. Firearms training this afternoon. The next ordeal of the day would be facing Jack.

Tosh finished the background check Jack had requested, printed it, bound it, and took it to his office. The door was open, but Jack obviously hadn't heard her approach. He was lost in contemplation of his favorite artifact. He'd never let Toshiko examine it, but outwardly it looked like nothing more exotic than a disembodied hand. It was usually stored near the entry, but sometimes, like today, Jack took it into his office.

It took several deep breaths for her to knock on the door, scared that she was intruding. But she'd promised him the summary first thing this morning and it was getting late. Jack looked up instantly at the knock, smiling broadly. "Come in, Toshiko," he invited, shoving the jar with the hand to the edge of the desk.

Jack took a swig of his ever-present coffee and, as usual, winced at the taste. The coffee from the Hub machine always tasted burnt, or gritty, or both. Tosh always bought coffee from Starbucks on her way in. It occurred to her that maybe it would be a good idea to start buying some for the rest of the team, as well. It would please Jack. And it might make Suzie more secure in her sense of superiority. And it might make Owen smile. Not, Tosh chastised herself, that it mattered whether Owen smiled or not.

"The background check you ordered, Jack," Toshiko said meekly, placing the document on the desk in front of him, taking care to place it well away from the artifact.

"Thanks, Toshiko," Jack answered. "Take a seat." He waved the coffee mug at the chair on the other side of his desk.

Tosh sat down, fidgeting nervously.

"You can call me Tosh," she said meekly. "I don't mind."

Jack smiled. "Thanks, Tosh. Now, about yesterday," he began carefully.

"I'm sorry," Tosh said immediately.

Jack waved away the apology. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Tosh. I made you uncomfortable. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

Tosh shook her head awkwardly. "No need. Could we," she looked up tentatively, "Could we just forget it? Please?"

"Sure," Jack agreed blandly, "If you can forget about what caused it."

Tosh blinked.

"Tosh," Jack said intensely, leaning across the desk. "The man who hurt you…"

Tears filled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. Please Jack."

"I can stop him," Jack said firmly. "I can stop him hurting anyone else. If you help me."

Tosh fought back the tears. She hadn't even considered that. How many other people were suffering at HIS hands? But she was so afraid. How could she help? Then again, how could she not?

"I want to help," she said finally. "But I don't know how I can."

Jack scratched his chin, pondering. "Can I ask you some questions?"

Tosh gulped. She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. But, if HE was hurting someone else. And of course he was, probably more than one. Why would he stop, after all? Unless someone stopped him. Someone like Jack.

Toshiko took some deep, steadying breaths, then forced herself to nod. There _was _someone else, she was sure. Someone suffering in a cell like she'd been, freezing from the inside out. Someone like her, without the skills that had made Jack come to her rescue. Except that he'd just said he would. He would stop that unnamed person's torment. If she helped him. So she had to. Had to. She nodded again, more firmly.

"Good girl," Jack said approvingly. Toshiko felt a hysterical giggle trying to force its way to the surface. Yesterday she'd been a potential sexual conquest. Now she was practically being patted on the head like a good puppy. Preferable, though. Infinitely so. She'd much rather be Jack's pet than his plaything.

"Was he one of the terrorists?" Jack began briskly. "The ones that had your mother?"

Tosh shook her head. "A guard from the prison," she whispered, clenching her hands around the arms of the chair, trying to stop herself sinking into the memories.

"The UNIT prison?" Jack asked sharply.

Tosh nodded mutely.

"UNIT." Jack thumped his fist onto his desk, swearing viciously. Tosh's face paled. She'd made him angry. What an idiot she was. She should have realized Jack wouldn't welcome a slur on their companion organization. Torchwood and Unit probably worked together. Sometimes, anyway. Liaised a bit. Shared resources. Things like that.

"Sorry, Toshiko," Jack said, collecting himself. "Didn't mean to scare you. I get a bit carried away sometimes." He turned on that smile again. "But I hate it when organizations like UNIT, like _us _for that matter, abuse their power. We're supposed to help." He rubbed his hand over his face. "Sorry again. Off on my high horse."

Tosh smiled tentatively. "I'd help if I could," she said softly. "But I never even knew his name."

"Do you remember his face?" Jack said, after a pause.

Tosh shuddered. She saw that face constantly. In her nightmares. "I think so," she said weakly. "Yes. I remember his face. Of course I do."

"Right, then," said Jack. "I'll get you a password to the UNIT database. Go through the personnel photos. Take your time. When you find him, tell me and I'll deal with it. OK?"

"OK," Tosh agreed. It would be hard, seeing his face, even in a photo. But if that's all she had to do…Or was it?

"When you find him," she added tentatively, "What then?"

Jack smiled gently, pleased by the confidence she'd unknowingly displayed. _When _you find him, not if. A relief. She'd been ready to bolt, yesterday. He'd thought he'd have to do far more than this to win her trust back, after he'd stuffed up so badly in the shooting range. One of these days, Jack told himself, I'm going to have to start thinking with my head before my hormones. But, back to the issue.

"Then he'll never bother you again," Jack said firmly. "Or anyone else."

"But the trial," Tosh admitted, her voice starting to shake. "I don't know if I could handle taking the stand against him."

Jack smiled, but it wasn't his usual smile. This one was frightening.

"UNIT doesn't give trials, Toshiko," Jack said grimly. "And they don't get them, either." The nasty grin intensified. "Be sure you pick the right photo, Toshiko. Be very sure."

Tosh stared at him. Yes, she'd been right all along. He _was _ruthless. Jack would act as he saw fit, and damn the consequences. Tosh warned herself to remember that. However humorous, however gentle he could be, he was quite capable of acting without the slightest shred of mercy. Even so, her soul was crying out in triumph. Because the ruthlessness was working in her favor. This time. And to her astonishment, she felt a match for his savage grin creep over her own face.

"I won't make a mistake," she vowed. "And…and thank you." She rose to her feet, somewhat shakily, assuming the interview was over.

"Oh, Toshiko, before you go," Jack added.

She turned, heart thumping afresh. "Yes?"

Jack picked up the file she'd delivered. "I'll read it properly later, but give me a quick summary. Who is he?"

"Oh," Tosh searched her memory quickly. "Ianto Jones. Born 19th August, 1983. No criminal record to speak of, just a teenage shoplifting charge. Nearly two years as Junior researcher with Torchwood One. Canary Wharf survivor."

"Torchwood One," Jack mused. "I like them even less than UNIT. Still, Canary Wharf."

He raised his eyes. Toshiko was stunned to see tears in them. "One of my best friends died in the battle of Canary Wharf," he explained.

"I'm sorry," Tosh said softly. He didn't answer. Toshiko crept away, leaving him to his pain. She had enough of her own.

Jack didn't even notice her leave. He opened the file and began reading, trying to distract himself from the painful thoughts of Rose, from the sense of loss he'd felt, reading her name on the list of the dead.

The pages rustled as he flicked through them. Nothing of interest beyond Tosh's summary. Except the name of a girlfriend. Jack stamped firmly on the twinge of disappointment that simple piece of data caused. Bloody hormones. His first impulse had been to offer the guy a job, based on how he'd known exactly where to hit the Weevil to distract it. They could use someone with a bit of Weevil experience. Then Jack had gotten a good look at him, and he'd stopped thinking. At least he'd retained enough sense to pull away when the Jones guy had reached for his neck. Jack sighed. And right after he'd gotten back he'd taken Tosh down to the shooting range. Bloody hormones. Bloody loneliness. Jack's eyes drifted back to the hand. The Doctor's hand. The Doctor. Rose.

Rose, he thought, the pain of loss twisting inside him again. I miss you. I miss both of you. I didn't even know you were back on Earth, and now you're gone. And if you were here, the Doctor was here. And I didn't know. His hand reached for the jar, stroking the glass that always felt warm. I should have known. Next time I will.

_AN: Yes I know Janto keeps creeping in, but how can you have Torchwood without those two? I'll limit it, I promise._


	4. Chapter 4

**As always, thanks for reading. **

Tosh had worked late one night, feeding Jack information while he tracked a Rift alert. As a result, she overslept and came in later than usual the following morning. But no one noticed her later arrival. They were all too busy staring at the pterodactyl swooping overhead. An actual prehistoric avian. Tosh was so fascinated watching it, that it took her a while to notice they had a new team member. A young man in a suit, whose face was annoyingly familiar. Eventually Tosh's sleep-deprived mind made the connection. He was the man from the background check she'd run. Ianto Jones. Torchwood One. So Jack had employed him after all.

When Jack had introduced the new arrival to the team, he simply said that Ianto was there to look after them. "Because look around, guys, we obviously can't look after ourselves." A brutally accurate comment, given the current state of the Hub. They'd had a particularly hectic time of it lately. Jack had taken to calling it "Blowfish Schoolies Week." There'd been a plague of blowfish dropping through the Rift, and blowfish were troublesome. Those that made it to Earth seemed to have a fascination for drugs and booze and fast cars – not unlike human teenagers, hence Jack's nickname for the invasion. Except that blowfish were even more visible - and more destructive. The whole team had spent most of the previous weeks out in the field, splitting their efforts between apprehending blowfish and dosing the resultant stunned humans with Retcon. Even Tosh was in the field now, to her immense satisfaction, as Suzie had recently decided her weaponry skills were sufficient to provide backup for the rest of the team.

They'd only been coming back to the Hub long enough to restock, refuel and regroup. Consequently, it was a mess. Days since anyone had bothered to empty any of the wastepaper bins, so there was rubbish spilling out onto the floor under every desk. There were Pizza boxes and Chinese food containers across every surface, because they'd had no time for proper meals. And there were stacks of disposable coffee cups everywhere, because the coffee machine hadn't been cleaned in living memory and the fluid that came out of it wasn't drinkable any more. Even Jack wouldn't touch it, now. Piles of paperwork everywhere, artifacts in haphazard heaps waiting to be catalogued….Yes, they definitely needed someone to look after them.

The prospect of a new team member shook Tosh's world somewhat. The world she'd only just begun to find her place in, for all that she'd been here over two years already. Apart from being the resident 'technical genius,' as Jack insisted on describing her, Tosh filled a different role for everyone. She was whatever they needed her to be so that she could stay in the only place that felt safe - Torchwood. Ironic that what was possibly one of the most dangerous jobs in the world was the only thing that gave Toshiko any security.

She was Jack's pet. Since that day in the shooting range he'd always kept a – well, no other word for it but respectful – distance. Still, he hadn't completely stopped flirting with her. The behavior was too deeply engrained. Sometimes Tosh thought he just needed a target, and she was all that was available. It made her uncomfortable but she was still too frightened to object. The fear that rejection could lead to dismissal lay too deep in her core to dispel, nor could she shake the fear that one day he'd try to follow through again. He hadn't changed his nature, after all. Tosh had ample evidence of _that_ – she still scheduled her time to allow her to devote one morning a month to removing evidence of Jack's after hours antics from the CCTV. Sometimes even that wasn't long enough.

And she had renewed evidence of his ruthlessness. Two days after she'd sent him a copy of the photo of HIM she'd found in the UNIT personnel database, she'd gotten a brief, pointed email. _Done_, it said. Just that. Done. Nothing more. And she didn't really want to know more. Jack had taken care of it and Tosh wasn't interested in how. Jack had taken care of _her_. Toshiko hadn't had a nightmare since. But somewhere deep in her fractured heart was the expectation that someday, some way, he'd expect pay back.

To Suzie, Tosh was a project. They still had firearms training every afternoon they were both in the Hub. Suzie had a meticulous training program mapped out, and she was a competent teacher. Tosh was already confident she could walk into the armory at any time and find at least one weapon she could use. And her accuracy improved with every lesson.

Owen. Tosh hadn't worked out what she was to Owen. His patient, obviously. He was a good doctor. Tosh dreaded her physicals, which Jack insisted on at least annually, but she'd been relieved to find that Owen dropped the sarcastic veneer when he slid into Doctor Mode. And he was careful with Toshiko to the extent that she wondered if he knew about what had happened to her. Had Jack told him? He must have, she concluded, because when the results of her physical arrived in her Inbox, she realized he'd tested her blood for STDs. A frightening possibility she hadn't even thought about. And she couldn't help being grateful for the unexpected sensitivity he'd shown in not bringing it up.

But apart from those physicals, Owen and Tosh pretty much avoided each other, beyond the contact required for work. Just as well, really. Suzie was possessive and Toshiko didn't want to upset her. Besides which, now that the nightmares had stopped, Tosh had begun dreaming again, and too many of her dreams featured Dr Owen Harper. And Tosh wasn't going along that path. Not now. Not ever. Not safe.

In spite of her fears, Ianto's appearance didn't really have much impact on Tosh's world, after all. He'd just merged into the background of the Hub, incredibly efficient and incredibly quiet. Tosh didn't see him empty the bins or file the competed reports from her Out tray, or archive the artifacts she boxed up for storage, but it all happened. And coffee started appearing on her desk within ten minutes of her arrival every morning. Good coffee, too. Obviously the machine had received its long-overdue servicing.

The Hub began to run smoothly. Last minute dashes from the SUV for weevil spray or to recharge flat containment fields were a thing of the past. Everything they needed appeared when and where they needed it, everything they didn't need vanished when it was no longer useful. Soon it felt as though he'd always been there, a silent helper, a presence in the background. Suzie ignored him, apart from complaining on the rare occasions when her needs weren't perfectly met. Owen forgot his name, falling back on 'Boy' - as in 'Teaboy, Binboy, Coffeeboy' – depending on what was needed at the time. Eventually he seemed to settle on Teaboy, probably because that was the only one that got a reaction out of Ianto. "You never drink tea," he'd said, confused. Owen and Suzie had laughed, and the name had stuck. Tosh felt sorry for the young man, and made an effort from then on to thank him for the tasks he performed. And the thanks were obviously appreciated, because biscuits started appearing alongside her coffee, something that didn't happen for the others. Even so, Tosh didn't attempt to defend him from their teasing. She couldn't risk getting on their bad side by trying to protect their whipping boy.

And Jack? Jack pretty much ignored Ianto too, unless he was flirting with him. And he did that a lot. Obviously. Outrageously, even. Worse than he'd ever done with Tosh. Ianto seemed to handle it quite well, only resorting to pointed remarks about harassment when Jack's comments became too blatant. If it hadn't been for the fact that Ianto did such a good job around the Hub, Tosh would have wondered whether Jack had employed the young Welshman just because of the way he looked in a suit. Actually, she wondered that anyway, even while registering a somewhat guilty sense of relief that Jack had a new target for his attentions.

Having Ianto to take care of all the mundane tasks set the others free to pursue their own projects. Once the inrush of Blowfish had finally trickled to a halt, Tosh realized it had been nearly two months since she'd performed her self-imposed duty of deleting the evidence of Jack's nighttime adventures from the CCTV. And she decided to get straight back onto it, before Owen realized his favorite Jack-bashing material was available again.

But there wasn't anything to delete. Initially, it looked as though Jack had finally developed a sense of discretion, but on closer examination Tosh could see the subtle tampering with the timestamps. Someone was trying to delete footage without anyone noticing, and doing a nice job of it too. But Tosh was too good for that.

"Could I have a word, Jack?" she asked, knocking tentatively on his doorframe.

Jack looked up from his desk, blue-striped coffee mug in hand. The mug that had become Jack's personal property, which they had begun to joke was bottomless, because Ianto somehow managed to ensure it was never empty.

"Toshiko, a pleasure. Come in, sit down."

Now that Jack didn't flirt with her any more, he'd started treating her with an old-world courtesy that was slightly trying, if flattering. It wasted time. And made it that much more difficult to introduce sensitive topics. Like this one. Now that she'd worked up the courage to approach him, Tosh had no idea how to start. Jack watched her hesitation curiously, his fingers beginning to drum impatiently on the desk.

"Someone's tampering with the CCTV," Tosh blurted out, feeling her face begin to grow warm.

Jack registered the blush and coughed uncomfortably. "You're talking about my….um….personal stuff, I presume?"

Tosh nodded, her face burning. She'd been doing this practically from the time she began with Torchwood, but they'd never had an open conversation about it before.

"I asked Ianto to take over that, Tosh. It's a fairly routine task, after all, and I know it made you uncomfortable."

"Oh. I see." And she fled without even bothering to make an excuse to leave. So Ianto was taking care of that, too. But that was odd. Very odd. It was fairly evident that Jack had taken a fancy to their newest team member. It was hardly going to help his cause exposing the young man to evidence of Jack's promiscuity, was it?

However much Tosh tried to tell herself it was none of her business, she couldn't leave it alone. Because Toshiko was beginning to identify with the silent young man. His way of blending into the background, she'd done that too. And his manner of accepting all the slights cast his way without a protest rather than drawing attention to himself. It all reminded Tosh forcibly of herself. Ianto was behaving the same way she had when she was secretly working for those terrorists.

And he had managed to win free access to the CCTV now. Who knew whether he was limiting himself to deleting Jack's encounters? And what else could he possibly be up to? Tosh watched the young man ever more closely and became more convinced by the day that he was hiding something. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to help him or stop him, but either way, she was going to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

**A long chapter, hopefully not boring! Thanks for reading.**

The CCTV was the key, Tosh decided after consideration. She knew how to restore deleted footage, given sufficient time and privacy. But time and privacy were a problem. Jack lived at the Hub, after all. And Ianto seemed to practically live there, too. At least, he was always in before Tosh. And now that she thought about it, he was there when she left, too, cleaning up.

Initially, Tosh decided to try waiting until after Ianto left for the night. Jack shouldn't be a problem. He spent most of the time in his office and he rarely asked what she was working on anymore, unless he had a specific project for her. But trying to outwait Ianto proved to be futile. He showed no signs of being ready to leave, regardless of how long she lingered. The first time she stayed back, she could see him checking on her, making excuses for walking through the workspace so he could see whether she was still there. Eventually she gave up and left.

The second time, she had Jack to contend with as well. He seemed to be impatient for her to leave, for some reason. "You look tired, Toshiko, surely that can wait until morning?" he said, in a tone that indicated it was more than a suggestion. Again, she left. She couldn't tell Jack her suspicions. She might be wrong, after all. And, watching Ianto as closely as she'd begun to since her curiosity awoke had only served to increase her feeling of empathy towards her quiet colleague. She didn't want to get him into trouble, at least not until she knew what he was doing. Maybe not even then. It might be something quite harmless after all. And she couldn't help noticing that poor Ianto seemed to become thinner and more strained every day.

Tosh knew it was dangerous, starting to care about someone again, but somehow she couldn't help herself. The quiet, uncomplaining young man was the first person who'd penetrated the icy walls around what was left of her heart. He seemed so _young_. Too young to have been through what he had. Young _and_ alone. Tosh knew by now that Torchwood One had claimed the life of Ianto's girlfriend. She couldn't imagine the horror of seeing someone you loved turned into one of those monsters. At least she knew her own mother was safe, even if she couldn't contact her beyond those infernal postcards. And worrying about Ianto was surely a much safer occupation than daydreaming about Owen.

So Tosh wanted to find out what was going on, help him if she could. But it was frustrating. It was evident now that she'd never be able to get into the backups while she was in the Hub. Someone would notice what she was doing. And there _was _a way of taking the data home. Tosh's favorite artifact was a data recorder that had fallen through the Rift. She knew it could absorb entire contents of the CCTV server in less than a minute. Then she could transfer the data to her home system and study it at her leisure.

The problem with _that_ was Jack had a strict rule about artifacts remaining within the Hub, unless he authorized otherwise. Tosh had never broken any of Jack's rules and the prospect of defying him still scared her. But she knew that Suzie sometimes took that glove home. And she'd seen Owen sneaking a bottle of alien pheromone spray into his pocket one night, after he'd had a fight with Suzie. If they were both breaking the rule, surely the punishment for discovery wouldn't be _that_ bad. Not if Jack had to apply it to all of them. And he'd have to, Tosh decided, her instincts for self-preservation overriding her conscience. If she was found out, she'd pretend to be all bewildered, swear that she'd thought the rule had been suspended, since the others had already done it….they'd hate her for getting them in trouble, but it wasn't as though they _liked_ her at the moment, was it? And it wouldn't happen anyway, as long as she was careful.

So Tosh took her favorite artifact and dumped the entire CCTV database into it. She didn't bother filtering it. That would take too long, and she knew that the recording device could easily absorb all data, with room to spare. After that, it was simply a matter of sliding the artifact into her shoulder bag while no one was looking.

"Firearms lesson?" Tosh nearly dropped her bag. Suzie was standing right behind her. Tosh's hands shook as she fastened the flap. That had been close. Too close.

"Yes of course," Tosh agreed, shakily.

Suzie eyed her enquiringly. "Something wrong?"

"No, nothing," Tosh answered hastily. "Just didn't know you were there. Startled me, that's all."

"Lost in some program again, I suppose," Suzie teased.

Tosh smiled, relief flooding through her. "I suppose," she agreed. "That translation software is absolutely amazing. If I could just…" Tosh babbled off a few technicalities and trailed off in satisfaction as Suzie's eyes began to glaze over. It was her best ploy for killing a conversation, and it always worked, on both Suzie and Owen. Techno-babble, as they called it, didn't interest either one in the slightest. Unless it related to their own field, of course. Sometimes not even then. "Just do it, Tosh, and spare me the details," Owen had said more than once. And she'd never been able to decide whether to be flattered that he trusted her, or crushed because he was bored with talking to her.

"Weapons training, then?" Tosh prompted, stowing her bag safely away in a drawer.

Suzie's face cleared. "Let's go."

Tosh loved her lessons. The feel of the weapons in her hands never ceased to delight her. And her progress had been good, so she had praise from Suzie to bask in, as well. Tosh had received very little praise in her life, and she tended to lap it up. It was one of the traits, she realized, that had made her such an easy target for the guard back in the prison. The HIM that no longer haunted her nightmares, not since Jack had dealt with him. Whenever the memories surfaced, Tosh could now chase them away simply by imagining HIM in her old cell, alone now, with no more victims. A very satisfactory image.

Suzie was being creative today. The lesson wasn't going according to its usual pattern. Instead of handing her yet another unfamiliar weapon to learn, Suzie was passing her weapons she'd used before, one after the other. Load, aim, fire. And she achieved reasonable accuracy every time, not that she'd ever be a sharpshooter. Unload, dismantle, clean, store. Over and over again.

"Well, that's it," Suzie said eventually. "You're done, girl."

Tosh blinked, pushing sweaty hair back from her forehead. "Done?"

Suzie smiled broadly. "That's all we've got. You know them all. Congratulations."

Tosh smiled so widely her jaw ached. "No more lessons?"

Suzie laughed. "Nothing more I can teach you. You should still get in regular practice, but you won't need me for that. And you'll get heaps of practice in the field anyway."

"Field?" Tosh repeated, joy rising in her.

"Yep." Suzie's eyes glowed with satisfaction. "You're too good to waste on backup anymore. You can be out the front with the rest of us. Jack said it was my call to make, and as far as I'm concerned, you're ready. I'll tell Jack before I leave today."

"Thank you!" Tosh almost squealed. She was a fully functioning member of the team! She would never again have to feel as though the others were carrying her, having to work harder to make up for her deficiencies. Finally, she belonged. It didn't matter whether the rest of the team liked her, as long as they accepted her. And she'd be able to take weapons home now. She'd never have to huddle in her bed, afraid of the noises outside, ever again. She'd have the means to defend herself under her pillow.

But the surprises weren't over yet. Suzie stepped forward and enveloped Tosh in a hug. A hug! Tosh didn't hug. She felt uncomfortable in the older woman's arms, but Suzie didn't seem to notice.

"I'm so proud of you, Toshiko," Suzie said into her ear. "You've worked so hard. When I think about the way your hands were shaking during your first lesson…look how far you've come."

Tosh returned the hug awkwardly; hoping reciprocation would trigger the end of the embrace. Suzie had it all wrong, as usual. The memory of Jack pressed against her in that same shooting range was what had made her shaky during that first lesson. But that was ancient history now. Jack had someone else to bother…And her exhilaration vanished. Ianto. Poor, lonely Ianto. Tosh was part of the team now, but Ianto was still outside. Young, alone and scared. She was sure he was scared, and she didn't know why. Tosh thought of the data now stored safely in her shoulder bag. Her resolve firmed. Whatever was going on, she'd try to help. If she could.

That night, she left early for once. She carefully chose her moment to leave, waiting until the others were all occupied with something. Owen and Suzie were flirting across the workspace. Whatever they'd been arguing about lately seemed to have resolved itself. Maybe that was why Suzie had seemed happier today. Or perhaps, Tosh thought darkly, it was because she'd gotten to use that wretched glove on a murder victim last night. Jack was holed up in his office, arguing with someone on the phone. Ianto was down in the archives. The alien recording device felt heavy in her bag as she walked towards the door, in constant fear that someone was going to realize what she'd done. But no-one noticed. Tosh reached her car with a feeling of relief, and not a little sense of power. She'd fooled them all.

Tosh forced herself to prepare and eat a proper meal while the data downloaded from the alien device to her home database. Watching wouldn't speed up the process, and she knew she hadn't been eating properly lately. None of them had. Jack had noticed and in a fit of fatherly concern had ordered them all to eat more vegetables. Ironic, since he was the driving force behind the junk food that arrived regularly at the Hub.

Finally the whirring that accompanied the loading process of her hard drive whined to a stop. Tosh sat down at her desk eagerly, checking again that there were no links to the outside world from her terminal. She'd been careful to disconnect her system from all outside lines, but an extra check never hurt. One of Torchwood's tools for protecting its secrets was the ability to remotely wipe data from any computer anywhere. She shuddered at the possibility that Ianto might be making spot checks of their home systems, but it was quite possible. She'd be doing exactly that, if data security was her responsibility. Tosh reminded herself to make sure that her system was cleaned of all extra information before reconnecting to the world outside.

Trembling with anticipation, Tosh accessed the CCTV files, bringing up the backups first and commencing the restoration process. Easy.

Her first reaction was the realization that Captain Jack Harkness was a bloody hypocrite. Her second reaction was to realize she'd wasted her time cooking that meal. It was about to come right back up.

No wonder Ianto wanted to make sure the files got deleted. Because there he was, in the office, in the archives, in the kitchen, on the bloody desks for God's sake, with Jack's hands all over him. And not just his hands. Tosh bolted to her bathroom and threw up the meal she hadn't really wanted in the first place.

She returned to her desk and cried, head in her hands, pity for someone else finally shattering the icy walls around her heart. Sobbing for the young man who was suffering through the same ordeal she had, for all that he could escape home every night. Assuming Jack even let him go home. And right under their noses. All those pointed remarks about harassment, had he been asking for their help and she'd been too sunk in her own concerns to even notice?

Jack Bloody Harkness, not one ounce better than the guard he'd pretended to be so contemptuous of. And he'd 'dealt with him,' had he? Maybe he had, there was no reason for him to lie about it after all, but it was probably just a case of eliminating the competition. A gesture to win her trust, because Ianto hadn't arrived yet, had he?

Eventually, Tosh's sobs ceased. With the emotion purged, her mind cleared. Something still didn't make sense. Why hadn't Ianto just left? Admittedly, leaving would mean Retcon, but at least that way he'd forget all of it, the business with Jack too. What was so important for him in Torchwood that he'd put up with what was happening to him without a word of complaint? And he _was_ just putting up with it, she was sure of that. Some of the CCTV footage had shown Ianto's face, and Tosh had seen the gleam of tears in his eyes. Her stomach churned again at the memory, but there was nothing left to throw up. Tosh got herself a drink of water, and returned to her desk, trying to consider the situation rationally.

Examine the facts, she told herself. Fact One, Ianto _could_ leave, and he hadn't. Fact Two, Jack wasn't a monster. He might be oblivious to the fact that Ianto was merely tolerating his attentions, but he wasn't a cruel or unfeeling man, not really. Blinded to reality by lust or loneliness, perhaps, but Tosh knew deep down that Jack would never resort to either force or extortion. He could have used either on her, and he hadn't. He'd even apologized for making her feel uncomfortable and backed off completely when he'd realized his attentions weren't welcome. Conclusion, then. Ianto was submitting to Jack for his own reasons. Something to do with Torchwood.

Tosh's mind roved back. Yes, Ianto had wanted to get inside Torchwood. He was the only person in the team Jack hadn't gone looking for. Ianto had sought Jack out, instead, and from what Jack had told them, he'd been persistent. Helping him with a weevil, bringing him coffee, taking him to the pterodactyl. And if he'd realized Jack was attracted to him – which wouldn't have been difficult, Jack didn't understand the concept of subtlety –maybe he'd seen that as his path into Torchwood. Tosh swallowed heavily against the bile in her throat. She couldn't blame Ianto for that. She could remember times she'd submitted to that odious guard just for the opportunity of an extra half hour in the exercise yard.

Tosh turned back to the CCTV. Maybe there was still a clue to be found in the deleted footage. She really didn't want to have to watch any more, as apart from making her sick it was bringing up memories best left buried. Still, she realized bitterly, all she had to do was look for segments where there was still clothing present.

And there were plenty of them. Now why would Ianto bother deleting all those scenes of himself in the archives? Tosh looked closer, magnifying the view. Not the archives, exactly. The lower corridors outside the archives, a place she'd never been. Nothing down there except storage, as far as she knew. A door she'd never seen. And when Ianto went through that door, nothing. Tosh frowned and accessed the CCTV for the current day, looking for that door. Nothing again. The CCTV coverage stopped at that door. So why was Ianto in there? And why was he so keen to hide it that he was deleting scenes of himself merely walking along that corridor?

It was late, Tosh was tired. Everything was whirling around in her head. She didn't know what to do. On the one hand, Ianto was hiding something, to the extent that he was playing games with the boss to either keep him occupied or to gain an excuse for editing the CCTV. Maybe both. In which case, Tosh had a responsibility to go to Jack with her suspicions. Surely she could find a way of doing that without revealing she'd brought and artifact home.

On the other hand, Jack was taking advantage of an employee. It wasn't a normal relationship, not even so much as a casual affair of the type Suzie and Owen enjoyed. Those two attempted to be discreet, but there was intimacy in their daily banter that was completely lacking in the encounters between Jack and Ianto. Apart from the flirting, Jack treated Ianto as distantly as the others did. In Tosh's mind, that tarnished the image she had of the man who'd been her savior. And it suddenly occurred to Tosh that maybe Ianto was using that hidden room as a bolt hole when he needed to get away from Jack. If she told Jack about what she'd found, she'd be robbing Ianto of what might be his last avenue of escape. And she couldn't do that, could she? Not when she wasn't sure what was going on.

Still unsure of what to do, Tosh deleted the CCTV from her home system, erased all record of it from her backups. Cleared it all from the alien data recorder too. Whatever action she decided to take, her own safety came first.

Tossing and turning in her bed that night, Tosh knew she had to choose a side. Jack or Ianto, who was more deserving of her loyalty? The man she hardly knew, or the man who had freed her from her prison? It should be obvious, but it wasn't. Somehow it wasn't. It didn't feel as simple as choosing between a friend and a stranger. It was more as though she had to choose between siding with the strong or protecting the weak. And she identified with one and was still frightened of the other. She feared Jack every bit as much as she admired him. I'll decide tomorrow, Tosh promised herself.

But the next day Tosh's world feel apart again, and the decision made itself.

**Stay tuned for startling (I hope) revelations...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who is reading, especially those who have given me feedback.**

The data recorder felt like a rock in her shoulder bag as Tosh made her way into the Hub the next morning. She still found it hard to believe she hadn't been caught breaking the rules, and she half expected cries of outrage to herald her arrival. But, nothing. Suzie was busy with her beloved welder, helmet on and sparks flying. Owen was nowhere to be seen, but there were noises coming from the medical bay. Ianto was making the rounds with his coffee tray. Tosh saw him smile as she arrived, and watched his hand sneak from his pocket as he passed her desk, depositing her usual tiny packet of biscuits. She knew he'd be back almost immediately with her coffee. So she'd have to be quick getting the data recorder back into its place before he noticed. Then again….this might just be her opportunity to win his confidence.

Tosh had awoken with something that wasn't quite a plan of action in her mind. Possibly more of a delaying tactic, she admitted to herself, but it satisfied all the demands of her conscience. She would tell Ianto what she'd discovered and give him an opportunity to explain. Based on that, Tosh would decide whether to go to Jack. Her only problem with that so far was Ianto had no reason to tell her anything. If he refused, she'd achieve nothing more than pre-warning him. But if he had something on her as well….. At that point Tosh realized she was becoming altogether too skilled at manipulation. Something to be wary of in the future, or she'd end up no better than the people she despised.

Anyway, on with the show. Within minutes, Ianto reappeared at her desk with her favorite mug, complete with frothy chocolate-sprinkled cappuccino foam.

"Thank you," she murmured, flicking him her usual brief smile of gratitude. Ianto smiled back. A real smile, not the stone-faced butler smile he gave the others. Then again, Owen and Suzie rarely even raised their eyes when the coffee arrived on their desks, so what did it matter whether Ianto smiled at them or not?

"You're welcome, Miss," Ianto answered, not quite so distantly as he did to the others, on the rare occasions a thank you fell from their lips. Tosh's resolve firmed. She'd only ever given Ianto the same sort of basic courtesy she'd give the server in a coffee shop and it had already won her a far warmer response than he offered any of their colleagues. Ianto needed a friend as badly as she did.

Tosh licked her lips nervously. Her resolve was swaying back and forth like a child's see-saw. She wanted to help, but what she was about to do was the closest thing to bullying another human being she'd ever attempted. Could she even do it? Would it work? He had no reason to trust her, after all. What if he didn't even want help? Would he just laugh at her attempt and walk away?

And he was doing exactly that, walking away. Tosh took a deep breath. She would try. Just this once. If it failed, her conscience would have to be satisfied with that before she locked it away again. "Ianto," she called after the retreating back.

He spun on his heel, a look of surprise on his face. He probably didn't even think I remembered his name, Tosh thought sadly.

"Sorry, did I forget something?" he asked.

"No," Tosh assured him, "I just wanted to, um, ask you something."

Ianto returned to her desk, slowly. "Yes, Miss?"

"Toshiko," she corrected. "My name's Toshiko."

Ianto smiled. "I know your name, Toshiko."

"Then I'd rather you use it," Tosh said firmly. "And my friends call me Tosh." Or they would, she told herself bitterly, if only she still had any.

Ianto's eyebrows rose slightly. "The others call you Toshiko, usually."

"The others," Tosh said, not attempting to hide her bitterness, "Are not my friends."

At which Ianto took a half step backwards. I'm lousy at this; she thought miserably, I sound like I'm flirting, for heaven's sake. As if he doesn't get enough of that.

"I need your help," Tosh said desperately, remembering at the last second to duck her head so that the CCTV wouldn't pick up the words properly. "I've done something I shouldn't and Jack will be furious if he finds out. Would you help me? Please?"

But Ianto merely stared at her.

Tosh began to tremble inside. Had she gotten it all wrong? It was only her own experiences that had convinced her Ianto was suffering. It was all very well to offer evidence of her own wrongdoing to win his trust, but now it occurred to her that Ianto might just be loyal to Jack, in spite of everything. Jack had given him the job he so desperately wanted, after all. But scenes from the CCTV replayed in her mind and she remembered the way Ianto had turned his head so that Jack couldn't see the tears. No, Ianto didn't trust Jack. Ianto was a victim and he needed help. Tosh had been a victim and someone had helped her. But that someone had been Jack….What the hell am I _doing?_ Tosh asked herself desperately. But one way or the other, she had to find out.

"Ianto?" she repeated, a note of entreaty in her voice.

But he turned away again. "Tourist office," he muttered over his shoulder.

Tosh felt relief flood through her. He would hear her out at least. And something about this reaction hinted that Ianto's loyalty was anywhere except with Jack. She watched the clock on her computer for a full five minutes before rising to follow Ianto to the Tourist office.

Ianto was waiting behind the desk, with the flap in the counter open. He had his arms full of brochures, and as Tosh entered he nodded pointedly at a similar pile waiting on the counter. Tosh picked them up and followed him into the office space behind the Tourist Desk. Obviously the brochures were to be their excuse if anyone asked what they were doing.

"No CCTV in here," Ianto told her in a normal voice. "Vandals broke into the office months ago and smashed up the place. The camera back here got broken and it's never been replaced. Nothing out here to see except the cover story, anyway, so I never bothered requisitioning a new one."

"And it gives you some privacy," Tosh added pointedly, seizing gratefully on the opening. "It gives you somewhere to escape to, and you need that, don't you, Ianto?"

A quickly stifled expression of alarm chased across Ianto's face. "I don't know what you mean," he said in a neutral voice.

"Everyone needs privacy," Tosh told him, backing off. She really was bad at this. She wasn't a bully, never could be, and the knowledge was comforting.

"You said you needed help," Ianto reminded her stiffly.

Tosh reached into her bag and drew out the data recorder. "I took this home," she confessed, "and I need to get it back into the archives without anyone noticing. Without _Jack_ noticing."

"Is that all?" Ianto said with a laugh. He had a lovely laugh. Saddening to realize she'd never heard it before. But then, what did Ianto have to laugh about?

"Just give it to me, Toshiko, I'll see to it," Ianto offered. He laughed again, a bitter laugh, this time. "You didn't need to go to all this effort. Owen and Suzie take stuff home all the time. They just toss it on my desk and tell me to file it and mind my own business."

"But Jack said," Tosh began.

"Jack," said Ianto bitterly, "wouldn't notice if his arse was on fire, unless I told him."

Then his face flushed a bright red. "I'm sorry. I've got no right to speak about him like that."

Here goes, thought Tosh, feeling her pulse begin to hammer. "You, of all people," she said intently, "Have the right to say whatever you like about Jack Harkness."

Ianto didn't answer, but she could clearly see the fear creeping into his eyes.

"You didn't even ask why I took that home," Tosh commented, giving herself some breathing space before the attack she was about to launch.

Ianto shrugged. "It's none of my business."

"But it was because of you I took it," Tosh pressed, taking the plunge, watching the emotions flit across his face. He nearly understood. Nearly.

The rest came out in a rush, before she lost her nerve. "I knew someone was tampering with the CCTV and Jack told me he'd given you access, so I dumped the database into that," she waved at the device lying on the table between them, "and restored the original files." And there they were again, tears, filling his eyes and threatening to spill over. Ianto twisted his head away sharply. Just like he'd done on the CCTV.

"Why are you letting him hurt you, Ianto?" Tosh asked softly. And for the first time since escaping her cell, Toshiko touched another human being just because she wanted to. Her hand stretched out to capture Ianto's chin, gently turning his head back towards her. "Please tell me," she pleaded, feeling her own eyes fill, "I might be able to help."

"No one can help," Ianto answered raggedly, but he didn't even attempt to pull away. His head sagged into her hand instead. Seconds later, Tosh had her arms around him and someone else's broken heart was being sobbed out onto her shoulder.

But not for long. In less than a minute Ianto pulled away, snatching tissues from a nearby box and clumsily swabbing at his eyes. Tosh took a tissue or two, herself. There were tears of sympathy streaking her own face.

"I used to think that, too," Tosh said eventually. "When it was happening to me."

Ianto's head snapped up. Tosh nodded, keeping her head down, unable to meet his eyes. "UNIT sent me to prison. There was a guard. He…" Her voice choked off.

Ianto shuddered. His hand crept out to cover hers. "I'm sorry."

Tosh shook her head. "He can't hurt me anymore," she said, her fingers twining around his, feeling somewhere deep within relishing this small gesture of mutual comfort. "But Ianto, I didn't think anyone could help me either, but…oh it's pathetic, isn't it? To think that Jack rescued me from that, and he's….he's…."

"No," Ianto shook his head. "He's not hurting me, Tosh, really."

"He is," Tosh persisted, angry and even a little scared that he was still defending Jack. "He made you cry," she added with an almost childish note to her voice.

Ianto's cheeks reddened. "So did you," he pointed out, equally childishly.

And to the astonishment of them both, they suddenly found themselves smiling at each other.

"I _was _trying to help," Tosh said weakly. "Kind of."

Ianto heaved a huge breath. "So it appears," he agreed. "Not that I understand why. But truly, Jack isn't doing me any harm. He's….oh I suppose he's using me, but I'm using him too."

They stared at each other silence. I'm nearly there, Tosh thought, hating herself for what she was about to do. He was in so much pain, and she was about to make it worse.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "What is it down in the basement that's worth what you're putting yourself through?"

Ianto leaped backwards, knocking over his chair. "Nothing," he said wildly. "I mean -what basement? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" Tosh asked, in a voice so neutral it was almost clinical. "Then why did you delete all the footage of yourself down there?"

And as their eyes locked, a booming voice echoed from within the Hub. Jack's voice.

"Conference room, everyone. Now."

"Don't tell anyone," Ianto pleaded desperately, as they made their way back to the Tourist office.

"I won't," Tosh promised, not even sure herself whether she was lying. "At least, not yet," she amended. "Not unless I have to."

"What do you want me to do?" Ianto asked woodenly. Two more steps and they'd be back within range of the CCTV. Tosh froze.

"You think I'm blackmailing you, don't you?" she demanded.

Ianto eyed her suspiciously. "Aren't you?" he asked bitterly.

"No, damnit, I'm not," Tosh snapped back. "I could have gone straight to Jack with this. I should have. But I, oh hell Ianto, I _like_ you. I want to help."

"Why?" His voice sounded bewildered.

Tosh looked at him enquiringly. "Why do I like you? Or why do I want to help?"

Ianto shrugged. "Both. Either."

Tosh smiled a crooked, bitter grin. "Same answer either way, really. You're the only one they treat worse than me. We underdogs have to stick together."

Ianto smiled back uncertainly. "You won't tell Jack, then?"

Tosh took a deep breath. "I'm not going to lie to you. I might. It depends what it is you're hiding. And I'm going to find out, whatever it is. I'd rather you told me yourself, but if you don't…."

Ianto bit his lip. "Don't have a choice then, do I?"

Tosh dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry. And Ianto, I do want to help. I'll help if I can, but if…well, if I decide Jack has to be told." She stopped, taking some deep breaths. "I promise at least I'll give you the chance to tell him first, OK?"

Ianto sighed. Should he trust her? He wanted to trust her. He desperately wanted not to have to do this alone anymore. Did he have a choice? And if he didn't, what were his options? He couldn't force her to keep quiet, wouldn't even if he could. "All right," he agreed finally.

"I said, NOW," bellowed the voice from within the Hub. "Toshiko, where are you?"

"I'm coming," Tosh called back.

"And bring Ianto, if he's out there," Jack yelled.

They exchanged glances. "Later, then?" Tosh asked

Ianto sighed. "Only if I can't avoid it," he admitted.

Ianto followed Tosh back across the Hub. He was still shaken from their encounter, but it was the first time in months he'd felt the slightest stirrings of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he'd thought. She'd said she wanted to help. And he needed help. He'd done all he could for Lisa already, and it was nowhere near enough. He didn't trust any of the equipment. Every minute he spent outside the Hub, he was afraid the life support would fail. And he couldn't even keep her free of the pain. But Tosh was a genius with technology. If he could get her on side, she'd certainly be able to do better than the jury-rigged job with the converter his best efforts had produced. And if all else failed, he concluded grimly, he could always slip some Retcon into her morning coffee.

Tosh could hear Ianto's footsteps behind her. Obviously he wasn't going to let her out of his sight, not that she blamed him. She thought she might have convinced him that she wanted to help, but he'd be nowhere near ready to trust her yet. I should have spent more time winning his trust before I dropped it on him, Tosh realized. But, still, she couldn't help feeling relieved at what a rotten manipulator she was. Right now, all she wanted was to be able to get out of this with her conscience intact. What was left of it.

The rest of the team was already assembled in the conference room. Odd. None of them were sitting down. Owen and Suzie were standing awkwardly in a corner. Jack was pacing. His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening.

"There you are, Toshiko," Jack said, his voice strained. He walked slowly to meet her, alarming her by taking both his hands in hers. Suzie and Owen crowded behind him.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Tosh," Jack said, "But your mother's been shot."

"NO," Tosh screamed, ripping her hands from Jack's grasp. "You said she'd be safe!"

Tosh spun away, barely registering the pain that flooded across Jack's face at her words. Her mind and body were screaming for escape, but she managed no more than two steps before her legs gave way beneath her.

Four pairs of arms reached for her as she crumpled. She sank slowly into a roaring darkness, falling in slow motion, with plenty of time to decide which arms would break her fall.

Not Jack. Jack had betrayed her. He had kept Tosh apart from her mother, swearing it was for her protection. And he'd wiped her mother's memory so she didn't know she needed to protect herself.

Not Suzie. Suzie smelled of death. Of guns and that cursed glove.

Owen. Owen was a doctor. Owen's arms would heal her. But Owen smelled of Suzie. Tosh twisted away from him with a pain she wouldn't name burning through the place where her heart used to be.

Ianto smelled like coffee. Tosh sank into strong Welsh arms and let the world turn black.

_A/N: In End of Days Tosh sees her mother will a bullet wound in her head. I have assumed it happened early on because there is no reference to it in series one that I could find. (Please correct me if I'm wrong) and I needed it now for the next few chapters to work…Thanks everyone_


	7. Chapter 7

**Apologies for the delay in updating. I've had my own invasion to deal with. Will do better from now on****  
**(_a 5-year old's birthday party qualifies as an invasion, I swear)  
_

Three sets of curious eyes watched Ianto carry Toshiko to the shabby couch, laying her down gently. Continued to watch as he fussed around her with a cushion and blankets.

Suzie broke the silence. "The Geek and the Teaboy, who'd have thought it?"

It was their usual way of handling tension. Not that she didn't feel sorry for Tosh, of course she did. But Suzie was uncomfortable with strong emotion so she often resorted to gallows humor. As did the other two, normally. She'd expected one or both of the men to cap her comment, so that they could all laugh uneasily and get on to dealing with the situation. But neither Jack nor Owen said a word in response.

Suzie looked at them both expectantly. Oddly, they were both staring at the couple on the couch with the same expression on their face. An expression she couldn't readily identify. "What's with you two?" Suzie demanded.

Jack recovered first. "Bad taste, Suzie," he said distantly.

"Poor little cow's been through enough without you piling it on," Owen added.

"God, you're pathetic, both of you," Suzie hissed. She'd suddenly realized what that expression meant. Jealousy. "Egos the size of a mountain, the pair of you. Just because she didn't fall sobbing into your manly arms. Not that I blame her. At least she could rely on Teaboy not to go the grope while she's out of it."

Jack's expression changed to surprise. "What?"

Owen shook his head disgustedly. "You're a stupid bitch sometimes, Costello. That's supposed to be your friend over there, and you're busy playing power games. You make me sick sometimes. And that takes a lot, that does." At which he stalked off towards the couch. "Back off so I can check her out," he ordered.

Ianto moved away, vanishing wordlessly towards the archives. He felt relieved and guilty and regretful all at once. Relieved, because he could delay the moment when he'd have to decide whether to trust Tosh with his secret. Guilty,_ because_ he was relieved. Much as he'd wanted to delay the impending confrontation with Toshiko, he wouldn't have wished this on her. Regretful, because his one chance of help seemed to have slipped away, at least for a while. Guilty again, because he was already wondering if he'd dare use the confusion surrounding Tosh's tragedy to make a rare daytime visit to Lisa. The others would look after Tosh, he assured himself, and Lisa had no one. No one except him. That was all it took. He hurried through the archives towards the basement. Lisa would make him feel better. Lisa always made him feel better.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned hurriedly back to the archives, disappearing between the towering shelves loaded with documents and artifacts.

"Ianto?" Jack's voice. Ianto's heart pounded. One minute later and his secret would have been out. What was Jack doing down here? Jack never ventured into the archives unless….but surely he wouldn't want _that_ now, not in the midst of a tragedy. Surely even Captain Jack Harkness couldn't be that….that _tacky_.

"Ianto, are you down here?" The voice had become impatient.

"Yes, sir," Ianto replied. He snatched an armful of files as an excuse for being there, and then stepped out from between the rows of shelves, impassive butler mask firmly in place. He was relieved to see Jack looked impatient rather than amorous.

"Toshiko didn't stay awake long enough to hear this," Jack said, "But her mother's still alive. Maybe not for long, so we're going to take Tosh to the hospital to see her as soon as she wakes up. We'll need you to manage the traffic, OK?"

"Of course, Sir," Ianto replied automatically. "But you could have just called me on the comm, Sir," he added, with a touch of reproach. He was still shuddering from the near miss and didn't want to encourage a repeat.

"Suppose I should have," Jack answered. He didn't know himself why he'd bothered following Ianto. Just an impulse. Just a way of dispelling the inexplicable uneasiness that had filled him at the sight of the young man cradling Toshiko so tenderly in his arms. Tosh had recoiled from Jack's arms twice now, he remembered. That must be what was bothering him. But in a place he didn't want to acknowledge, he was stinging from the fact that, in spite of all their intimacies, Ianto had never held _him _that way.

"Are you all going with Toshiko then, Sir?" Ianto's voice broke into Jack's musings, bringing his mind sharply back into focus.

"Yeah, all of us," Jack answered firmly. It didn't occur to him to question why 'Us' didn't include Ianto. That was just how it was. "We can't take the chance that this wasn't a ruse to draw Tosh out. And she's in no state to look after herself."

Ianto's heart lifted. When they were all gone, he could have that visit with Lisa after all. But he immediately felt guilty again. Poor Tosh, the first time she'd seen her mother in years, and it would probably be the last as well.

Owen watched Tosh carefully as she huddled into the other side of the SUV, telling himself he was only looking for signs of impending shock. Jack was driving, breaking the speed limits, safe in the knowledge that back at the Hub, Ianto was disabling speed cameras as well as manipulating traffic lights. Suzie was sulking in the front. Owen had treated her to a disgusted look when he'd seen her carrying the case that contained the resurrection glove. She'd reacted predictably, scowling at him before withdrawing into herself. Not for the first time, Owen wondered whether the glove was having an effect none of them really understood. Suzie was hard, but not usually completely insensitive. Though he had to admit, no one had complained when she'd taken it to other people seriously injured or dying. Still, this was one of their own. Surely that deserved some consideration. Owen avoided pursuing that thought to its logical end. He wasn't ready to accept that he wouldn't be feeling this way if it was anyone else's relative they were on their way to see. Not even Suzie's. Or his own. Well, some of them.

Owen led Tosh through the twisting hospital corridors, careful not to touch her after his initial offer of a supporting arm had been rejected. He was the logical choice of escort, given he'd be able to gain the most information on Mrs. Sato's condition. Suzie and Jack dropped back and positioned themselves strategically, fingering their concealed weapons, alert for any sign of exceptional interest in the pair that were making their way towards ICU.

Owen flashed his Torchwood ID at the police guard stationed outside the room and was waved through. He paused at the end of the bed to flip open the patient chart, absorbing the details and sadly acknowledging this would indeed be Tosh's final visit with her mother. Vital signs were dropping. The woman lying in the bed was no longer triggering the respirator. The machine alone was drawing air in and out of her lungs, holding her to a fading life.

Tosh sat by her mother, holding her hand, trying to avoid touching the tubes feeding into the back of it. She murmured in Japanese, watching her mother's eyes move beneath closed lids, wondering if she could still hear the words of love and apology spilling from her daughter's lips. My fault, she thought brokenly. But no, she'd done all she could. Committed treason and gotten locked in that cell just to keep her mother safe. All for nothing, in the end. But Jack had said her mother would be safe, that the terrorists had no reason to go after her. No reason, she supposed, except revenge. Were they somewhere now, watching as Toshiko's heart shattered all over again?

Time passed. Minutes or hours, Tosh had no idea which, punctuated only by the regular visits of nurses, who did little and spoke less. Owen had found a chair and positioned himself towards the end of the bed. His presence was comforting. Occasionally, Tosh would hear the sound of Jack's voice, or Suzie's, conversing with Owen in low tones. She wondered vaguely why they'd bothered to stay so long.

Eventually, Owen cleared his throat. Tosh looked up, her face impassive. She hadn't cried. She didn't want to waste her last minutes with her mother in useless tears, tears that would blur her vision. She wanted to look, to lock her mother's face in her memory, to never forget the curve of her cheek, the determined jut of the chin, the lips that used to smile so readily. But she didn't look at her forehead, where a dressing covered the bullet wound. Tosh didn't want to remember that.

"Toshiko," Owen said carefully. "You've been here for hours. You need a break."

"No," Tosh said calmly.

"Something to eat or drink," Owen insisted.

Tosh thought about it. "Water," she decided. There was a jug and a glass on the bedside table. Owen handed her a half-filled glass. Their fingers touched as she took it. Tosh shuddered away from the contact, rejecting the warmth. It was better to draw back into herself, to summon the icy numbness that had served her so well.

"You're a doctor," Tosh said neutrally, her soft voice echoing in the silent room.

"I am," Owen acknowledged. He knew what was coming. But he couldn't save them all. Sometimes he couldn't save any.

Tosh rubbed her mother's hand gently. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

"I'm sorry," Owen answered. "But no, there's nothing."

Tosh looked directly into his eyes for the first time since they'd met. "Then what good are you?" she asked bitterly.

Owen thought about it. "Not much," he answered honestly. He hadn't been much use to anyone since he'd lost Katie. Suzie was just a habit. An undemanding one.

Tosh nodded impassively. "That's what I thought."

Owen didn't try to talk to her after that.

Eventually, alarms sounded. People in hospital uniforms rushed into the room. Why rush, Tosh wondered, when they know there's nothing to be done? Owen mumbled into his earpiece as his hand closed around her arm, moving her gently but firmly out of the way.

Through the numbness that enveloped her, Tosh heard the words "I'm calling it." It was over. "Time of death…" Her mother was gone. Owen drew her out of the cubicle as the nurses began disconnecting tubes and machines. Now she had nothing left. Nothing except Torchwood. Owen and Jack and Suzie. And Ianto. Ianto with his secrets who she'd wanted to help when she'd made the mistake of letting feelings creep into her heart again. What was the point? Ianto would probably never trust her anyway. She'd just tell Jack what she'd found let him deal with it, whatever it was.

A doctor emerged from the cubicle. A tired-looking middle-aged woman with enough experience to identify the bereaved without an introduction. "You can go in now," she told Tosh. Tosh entered the room silently. She was relieved the doctor hadn't bothered with apologies. Grateful to be spared the 'nothing we could do' platitudes.

The others followed her in. Owen stood behind her. Ready, Tosh supposed, to catch her if she fainted again. And Suzie was undoing the clips on that case she'd brought, carefully lifting out something…

"Suzie, no" Jack said warningly, from his position near the door.

Something silver. Shiny. With fingers.

Tosh sprang towards her in a fluid movement, hands curled into claws. "Don't you dare," she hissed.

A strange light filled Suzie's eyes. "Don't you want to say a proper goodbye?" she said coaxingly.

"Don't you dare touch my mother with that _thing._" Tosh's hand lashed out, slapping the encroaching silver glove away, knocking it from Suzie's reverent grasp. Suzie shrieked and caught it before it hit the floor, clutching it against her chest protectively.

"Shit, Suzie, what's _wrong _with you," Owen growled, stepping between the two women.

"I was trying to help," Suzie spat back.

"Out," Jack ordered. "Put that thing away and get out. Wait for me in the hallway."

Owen stayed with her. Tosh moved numbly where she was taken. Owen led her from one place to another. Tosh followed his instructions mechanically. There were documents to be signed, answers to be given. She signed what Owen told her to sign, said the words Owen prompted her to say. She could have been signing over the deeds to her house for all she knew. And she didn't care. She had no one left to care for.

Outside the hospital were flashing lights. Blue for police, not red for an ambulance. Through a fog of grief, a voice was telling her about someone waiting in ambush. Not Owen's voice. Jack, covered in blood yet inexplicably unhurt, walking around at full strength. Organizing, giving orders, explaining. It _had_ been a trap, after all. Someone had shot her mother only to draw Toshiko out. So it _was _her fault.

"Who shot her?" Tosh asked. No, that was wrong. "Who killed her?" As if it mattered. She'd never known the names of any of the terrorists who'd threatened her, anyway.

"Might be better if you don't know," Jack said cautiously. "They've got him, he's confessed. It's over."

"She deserves to know," Owen argued. Tosh jumped, startled by his voice. She'd forgotten he was still at her side. Though that explained why she wasn't cold, she supposed. Because she had Owen on one side of her and Jack on the other. Tosh wondered vaguely where Suzie was. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered.

"I want to know," Tosh insisted.

Jack sighed. "I only know they've caught someone. They didn't tell me who, but I can find out. If you're sure you want to know."

Tosh nodded. She was sure. She needed a name. She needed someone to blame other than herself.

Jack left to talk to the police. Suzie called, and the other warm presence at her side was gone suddenly as well, without a word, leaving her newly bereft. Owen had gone to Suzie. Tosh watched them without much interest. Suzie was bleeding. Must have been injured springing the trap set to catch Tosh. A hospital full of doctors and Owen had left Tosh for Suzie. Only to be expected, she supposed. Tosh was nothing to Owen. Better that way. Safer.

Then all three of them were back, surrounding her, herding her back to the SUV.

"Did you find out who killed her?" Tosh asked intently.

"Yes," Jack answered. He opened the back of the SUV and waited until she was inside and safely buckled in before moving to the driver's seat.

"Who was it?" Tosh asked.

The rest of the car doors opened. Owen helped Suzie in before climbing into the back seat himself. Tosh could feel their eyes on her.

Jack sighed. "It was a Unit prison guard," he began, watching Tosh through the rearview mirror, seeing the flinch. He didn't need to say more. She knew which one.

Tosh shook her head, locking the pain away, shielding herself with logic. "Can't be. You dealt with him. He was in a Unit prison himself."

"He escaped," Jack said bluntly.

Tosh didn't react. Suzie and Owen gasped.

"I've helped treat people in those places," Owen protested. "No one escapes."

"He had help," Jack explained reluctantly. "He was in the same prison you were in, Tosh. The other guards knew him. He convinced them you framed him. They felt sorry for him, apparently. Because he wasn't," Jack paused, "He wasn't as strong as you, he couldn't handle being locked up. He was going insane in there. So the other guards helped him escape."

"HE killed my mother?"

"Yes," Jack said bluntly.

"You said you'd dealt with him," Tosh protested.

"I thought I had. I'm sorry."

"You said you'd take care of it, and you let them put him where his friends could look after him?" Her voice was incredulous now.

"Not very thorough, Jack," Owen put in. "There's more than one Unit prison. You should have checked."

"Thanks, Owen," Jack's voice was sarcastic. "I do realize that now. I'd assumed I could trust them not to do anything that stupid."

There was nothing more said to Tosh as the wrangling continued. Suzie joined in; even though Tosh was sure she didn't know the background. At least she hoped not. Surely Owen wouldn't have told Suzie _that_. Tosh tried to shut out the sound of the argument. They were both telling Jack what he should have done, what they'd have done in his place. But Tosh knew there was no real concern for her behind their words. They were just taking advantage of the rare opportunity of a justified attack on Jack. He'd been careless, hadn't followed through. On it went. Careless was right, Tosh thought bitterly. He didn't care, not for any of them. Just went through the motions that might convince them he cared. Didn't really give a damn for any of them.

The SUV roared through the night. No red lights. Ianto must be managing the traffic again. That, Tosh thought, was unnecessary. An abuse of power. There was no need to rush anymore, so what right did Jack Harkness have to demand the roads cleared for him now? No right at all. But Jack claimed all sorts of things he had no right to. He'd claimed to have dealt with the guard, that he'd never be able to hurt Tosh – or anyone else – ever again. He'd claimed Tosh's mother would be safe. And he'd claimed Ianto….why was Tosh thinking about that now? Because Ianto was looking after the traffic lights for them. Instead of being home, he was alone in the Hub, smoothing the way for Jack and his big black car.

They took Tosh home. Suzie offered to stay but Tosh refused. Jack offer her time off, and she accepted. "As long as you need," Jack urged. "Come back when you're ready."

It took three days to rebuild the wall around her heart. Sometime during the first day, her doorbell rang. Flowers. White flowers. 'From your colleagues,' the card said. The writing was Ianto's. She recognized it from the labeling on the files that came up from the archives, from phone messages, from a dozen other pieces of paper that smoothed their paths at work. Tosh was inexplicably touched by the evidence that he'd taken the time to visit a florist, to write the card himself. That he'd known, or found out, that white was the color of mourning in her culture.

On the second day, she checked the numbers in her phone and called Ianto on his mobile. To thank him for the flowers. He sounded surprised, but, yes, pleased as well. He asked if he could visit. She agreed. Within the hour, her doorbell rang again.

Ianto didn't say anything at first. But he'd brought more flowers. Starbucks coffee in Styrofoam cups. And food. Comfort food. Soup for lunch. A casserole for her to re-warm later. The clock said it was lunchtime, so she haltingly invited him to share the soup. They talked during the meal, of nothing important. Nothing that she remembered later. With the meal finished, he cleaned up and prepared to leave.

At the very last second, as he said goodbye, as he stepped through the doorway, Tosh's hand reached for Ianto's arm. "I still want to help," she said.

Ianto's troubled eyes met hers. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Tosh nodded. She was sure. She no longer felt that she'd be betraying Jack by helping Ianto. Jack's treatment of Ianto, his blunder 'dealing with' her abuser, they'd torn down any remaining illusions. Jack wasn't all-powerful. He couldn't fix everything. Maybe he couldn't fix anything. He'd taken her out of the prison for his own purposes and she'd repaid him with the work she'd done, and would continue to do. She owed him nothing else. Her debt was paid.

Jack didn't need her loyalty. But Ianto did. If he was hiding something dangerous, well, they'd deal with it. Together.

On the third day, Tosh finished rebuilding the walls around her heart. But there was a difference. A weakness, perhaps. A crack in her defenses. A place in her heart - for Ianto, her friend.

On the fourth day, Toshiko returned to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for the encouragement...**

Tosh wanted to get back to work. She wanted something to distract her from her grief. She wanted to have her mind occupied, to lose herself in the wonders of whatever rift flotsam was waiting for her. And most of all, she wanted to finally discover what it was that Ianto had been hiding all this time.

But when she arrived at the Plass, her resolve faltered. She didn't want to go in. She didn't want to face the stares, the futile attempts at comfort. Ianto was the only one who'd bothered to contact her during her time away. The others had no doubt been assuring themselves that they were giving her 'space' but really they'd just been putting off the awkwardness. Now they would feel the need to drag themselves and her through some cliché-filled condolence speech.

Her gloom lifted slightly as she realized the sign on the Tourist Information booth was flipped to 'OPEN'. Ianto would be the first one she saw. But the booth never opened this early. He'd done it for her.

Tosh pushed the door open, setting the chimes tinkling. Ianto emerged from the rear office, a gentle smile lighting his face. "Welcome back, Tosh," he said. No platitudes.

"It's good to be back," she answered. And it was true, now.

"They're all in," Ianto added, answering her next question before she asked. "Even Owen." They shared a smile. Owen was notorious for coming in late or hungover. Sometimes both.

"They know I'm coming?"

Ianto nodded. "Jack told us last night you'd be back today."

Tosh waved vaguely at the booth. "That's why you opened up early, isn't it?"

Ianto nodded again. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not," Tosh answered, fighting an unexpected impulse to reach across and hug him. She took some deep breaths, preparing to face the rest. Ianto pressed the concealed switch that opened the inner door.

"Come in with me?" she asked tentatively, as the door groaned open.

"Right behind you," Ianto said reassuringly, flipping open the flap in the counter. "Give me a minute to close up."

They made their way through into the inner Hub. At the point just before their presence would trigger the cog, Ianto cleared his throat. Toshiko turned back enquiringly.

"If you still want to," he said nervously. "Tonight, after the others have gone….We do need help, if you're sure you want to give it…"

_We?_ But Tosh only nodded. "I'm sure," she said firmly. It wouldn't raise any questions if she stayed back tonight, not after three days' absence. Suzie and Owen never stayed any later than they had to. Which only left Jack. Tosh's mind shuddered away from how Ianto planned to keep Jack occupied.

"Just help me get through today, would you?" she added.

"Bottomless coffee mug," Ianto promised. Tosh blinked. That wasn't what she'd meant.

Ianto hesitated. "It's just…if you're really going to help, we should behave just as we did before, at least when the rest of the team is around. It might make them curious. Or suspicious. He coughed nervously and looked down. "There have already been a few jokes just because I caught you when you fainted."

Tosh nodded. "I understand." She pasted a brave smile onto her face. Drew in another shaky breath.

Ianto watched her for a moment. "But only when the others are around," he clarified, opening his arms.

Tosh leaned gratefully into the embrace. A brief hug, but enough. Exactly right, in fact. It had been so long since the touch of another human had caused her to react with anything except fear. This was worlds away from Jack's firearms training. Infinitely safer, infinitely more comforting. And his arms dropped the instant she moved away.

"Here goes," Tosh announced, stepping forward, the smile coming more easily this time. The alarm shrilled.

It was every bit as uncomfortable as she'd expected. Jack wasn't too bad, all she had to contend with was an embrace she'd rather not have had and a simple 'Sorry'. Suzie stammered through some sort of apology for bringing the glove to the hospital, which Tosh assumed Jack had ordered her to give. Owen spared her the platitudes, but interrogated her about whether she'd been sleeping, eating, getting enough fluids….At the point where she began nodding vaguely, Ianto arrived with his coffee tray. No one questioned the chocolate biscuits which accompanied Tosh's mug.

And so the day went. Ianto kept his promise about the bottomless coffee mug. Tosh couldn't help noticing that the refills arrived with impeccable timing. Such as, right after each of the others had finished their condolence speeches. And within moments of her hands faltering on the keyboard because she'd suddenly remembered her mother teaching her how to type. A tourist brochure accompanied her 3pm cup, usually her last of the day. Opening it cautiously, she spied a note. _I understand if you want to back out, _it said. _If not, wait for me in the archives after O & S leave.' _When Ianto came to collect her cup, she simply met his eyes and nodded. And was rewarded by a brief, blinding smile.

Annoyingly, neither Owen nor Suzie seemed in any hurry to leave today. Eventually, Owen made a rather loud comment about stopping at the pub for a pint. Jack and Suzie agreed quickly, and the three of them turned to Toshiko with blatantly fake expressions of innocent enquiry. Obviously the drinking session had been planned solely as a distraction for Tosh. Damn. Just because any one of those three would consider drowning their sorrows the perfect solution to grief, it didn't mean she felt the same way. And Ianto was expecting her to stay back tonight. If she failed him, he might not trust her again.

Tosh stopped trying to think of an excuse to refuse when she realized that the outing would mean an empty Hub. Even Jack would be gone, without Ianto having to do….whatever it was he did to keep Jack out of the way.

"Sounds good," Tosh told the waiting trio. Amidst the bustle of donning coats and collecting handbags, she found the time to scribble a quick note.

She saw the quickly veiled disappointment on Ianto's face as they all clattered through the tourist booth on their way out. Tosh had made sure she was the last to leave, and dropped the brochure pointedly in front of him with an absent "You left this on my desk." She lingered, fussing with her coat buttons, until she saw his face clear as he discovered her note. Right, now all she had to do was lose the other three.

And losing them was easy, ridiculously so. Inviting her out had obviously satisfied whatever demands their collective consciences had made. No one protested when she claimed tiredness after only one drink. She waved away Jack's half-hearted offer of finding her a taxi, insisting that it was a nice evening and she wanted to walk. And she bought a final round of drinks before she left, jut to make sure they'd stay put.

Toshiko could see Ianto pacing through the Hub as the cog rolled back. She'd never seen him look so nervous, not even on his first day. "It's just me," she called reassuringly.

Ianto met her as she came through the door.

"I thought you'd change your mind," he confessed.

Tosh frowned. "You got my note, didn't you?"

"Well, yes," Ianto nodded, "but I thought maybe, since they took you out, you might…."

Oh, this was ridiculous. It reminded her of high school, of the pathetic hangers-on who'd desert their real friends if one of the 'in crowd' snapped their fingers. Tosh wasn't like that.

"You have to decide whether to trust me or not, Ianto," Tosh said firmly. "I only went with them to get them out of the Hub. How would you have gotten rid of Jack, otherwise?" It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realized she didn't really want to know.

But Ianto must have connected the question with her demand for trust. He blushed and looked away before muttering, "He always goes to sleep…um….after."

Tosh blushed furiously herself, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut.

"And he assumes I've gone home," Ianto continued, hurrying through the rest of the explanation she didn't want to hear. "And he doesn't come out into the Hub in the morning until I've brought his coffee, so I just make sure I trip the alarm before I go into the kitchen and he doesn't know I've been here all night."

"You stay all night?" Tosh interrupted. "Every night?"

Ianto nodded. "Most nights. Whenever I can. I don't like leaving her alone."

"Her?"

Ianto inhaled deeply. Like she said, he had to decide whether to trust her. And he did. Mostly. "Tosh, can we sit down?" he asked, waving towards the shabby couch. "I want to tell you what's going on before I take you downstairs. Because if you do decide you don't want to help after all," he said defensively, "At least you won't know how to get in."

Tosh flushed again. Odd way of demonstrating trust. But still, she supposed he was meeting her halfway. She sat on the couch, looking at him expectantly.

"Coffee?" Ianto asked.

"Stop it," Tosh told him sharply. "Tell me, or tell me to get out. Stop the delaying tactics."

Ianto grinned. "Yes Ma'am," he said meekly. Then his face sobered abruptly.

"You know I used to work for Torchwood One, right?" he began.

Tosh nodded.

"I was at Canary Wharf when the Cybermen came through," Ianto continued, eyes growing distant. Tosh reached tentatively for his hand. Every report she'd heard of that battle had been horrific. Ianto's fingers closed around hers tightly.

"My girlfriend, Lisa." He stopped, swallowed, started again. "She worked there too. The Cybermen took her."

Tosh's eyes filled, remembering the addition Jack had made to Ianto's file. _Girlfriend, Lisa Hallett,_ had been amended to include _Deceased_.

"But they all vanished just after they'd put Lisa into the chamber. She hadn't been converted, not completely, anyway. She's still alive. She's still Lisa." The last sentence was defiant, daring her to argue. But Tosh didn't dare. If she interrupted him now, he'd clam up and bolt.

"I pulled her out while Torchwood burned," Ianto continued mechanically. "I went back to the ruins, salvaged everything I could. I put a converter together. Spit and rubber bands, mostly, but it's working. It's keeping her alive. Just. And there were bits and pieces here in the archives that I've been able to use, to keep it going. Make some improvements, even. That's why I needed this job so badly."

"Where is she?" Tosh asked softly, when Ianto ran out of words.

"Basement," Ianto answered. "It was the safest place I could find. No one can get in except me. I changed the locks and I've got the only key."

Tosh squeezed his hands. "You'll have to get one cut for me then," she said softly.

Ianto looked up, eyes blazing with hope. "You still want to help?" he asked incredulously.

Toshiko tilted her head to one side as she thought about it. Yes, she did. Why? Why did she want to get involved in something so dangerous? Ianto wouldn't harm her if she backed out, she was sure. Somehow she knew he'd do nothing worse than give her a dose of Retcon. She'd forget the whole evening and put it down to going drinking with the team. It was nothing like the work she'd done for those terrorists. She was under no pressure, not the slightest threat of harm. But if she did this, she was betraying Torchwood, wasn't she? Still, what _was _Torchwood, after all, but an organization devoted to protecting humans from aliens? Ianto had protected his girlfriend, saved her in the only way he could. Surely she was as much deserving of help as any other victim? Or was Tosh just rationalizing a desire to help her only friend? Probably. And she had to admit the idea of working on Cyberman technology excited her too.

"Can I meet her?" Tosh asked, instead of answering directly.

Ianto bit his lip. "Fair enough, I suppose," he agreed, standing up.

Tosh rose to follow him. "You can always Retcon me later," she said dryly.

Ianto looked back at her, a small grin lighting his face. "Worked that out already, did you?"

"Haven't you heard I'm a genius?" Tosh asked, smiling back.

Ianto nodded, and led the way through the archives. "So Jack said," he agreed. He stopped so suddenly Tosh nearly ran into him. "Don't tell Lisa about Jack, please? She doesn't know that I….that we…."

Tosh reached forward and squeezed his arm. "It's OK. Not a word. Hey, Ianto?"

He turned, key in his hand.

"Does she know how lucky she is to have you?"

Ianto grinned broadly. "You could ask her," he suggested, swinging the door open.

Tosh's heart began to thump. A large silver structure met her eyes. With something, no some_one_ lying in its midst. Toshiko had seen pictures of Cybermen, read all the reports. And the being, no, the _person_ lying in the middle of the mass of metal didn't look like the pictures. She had a face. Skin. She had, Tosh decided, a body covered with metal rather than a metal body. An important distinction.

Ianto leaned over the frame. "She's awake," he said softly. He touched something on the side of the frame and stepped back while it tilted slowly upright.

"Lisa, honey," Ianto said, his voice so full of tenderness a lump rose in Tosh's throat. "This is Tosh, remember? I told you she might come help us, and she has."

The woman's eyes opened slowly. Dark, human eyes, liquid with pain.

"Hello Tosh," the woman said, in a broken, breathy voice. "Are you going to help me? Really?"

Tosh couldn't speak for a moment. The lump was still lodged in her throat. Her eyes blurred. The scene before her was heartbreaking. This was love such as Tosh had never witnessed before, a love that overrode everything else. Ianto took his girlfriend's metal-enclosed hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss onto her cheek while they waited for an answer.

Tosh had a sudden vivid picture of her mother lying in the bed in ICU. She remembered the tubes feeding from every limb. The tubes that had fed her, medicated her, removed her waste. The machine that breathed for her. Was the sight before her so different? It was, Tosh decided, just a different form of life support. The last vestiges of indecision fell away.

"Yes, Lisa," Toshiko answered. "I'm going to help. I'm going to help you both."

**And so the conspiracy is launched...  
**_I feel the need to explain why Tosh is basically betraying Torchwood..so. 1) She is grieving, which does mad things to your head. 2) Precedent - she hid the pendant from everyone in Greeks bearing Gifts...anyway hope you enjoyed it._


	9. Chapter 9

**Apologies for the delay, I'm usually quicker than this! But this chapter insisted on being difficult...Hope you enjoy it.**

Toshiko was intensely aware of her own failings. She knew that the yearning for praise, for approval, for appreciation was one of her greatest weaknesses. And that weakness was currently being fed well beyond approved limits.

She'd only been in the basement for an hour, and already she'd made a difference. Just identifying and wiring in a backup power source already within the converter.

"He didn't even know it was there," Lisa exclaimed, gasping out the words. "I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen."

"I was too afraid I'd knock out the main power supply," Ianto admitted, eyes shining. "You're amazing, Tosh. Now I won't have to spend every minute in the Hub scared something's gone wrong down here."

"You'll have more time to yourself, Ianto," Lisa said, the joy fading perceptibly from her voice. "Isn't that great?"

Ianto grabbed Lisa's hand and kissed it. "I don't want time away from you, sweetheart," he protested. "I'm just glad you'll be safe when I can't be here, that's all."

Tosh choked up again. The sacrifices these two made for each other flared from every sentence, every touch. Ianto's presence was the only respite Lisa had from what amounted to imprisonment down here, and she was encouraging him to leave more often. And Tosh already knew the risks Ianto was taking.

"I'll have to do something about your breathing next," Tosh offered happily. "You'll be able to speak so much more easily if I can get the respirator circuits working properly."

"Can you start now?" Lisa asked impatiently.

"Tosh needs to go home," Ianto interrupted, before she could answer. "Before Jack comes back and realizes you're still here," he added, looking meaningfully at Tosh.

Toshiko nodded. "I'll need to do some research first, before I do anything," she explained, feeling guilty. Lisa had such expressive eyes and Tosh could clearly see the disappointment in them.

"When will you be back?" Lisa demanded.

"Soon," Tosh hedged.

"Lisa!" Ianto chided. "It's late. Tosh needs sleep."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said. But she sounded like a child who'd been scolded and made to apologize.

"I'll walk you to your car," Ianto offered.

Tosh buzzed with plans as Ianto escorted her out of the Hub. An adrenaline high, she supposed. It took her a while to realize Ianto wasn't sharing her enthusiasm. He was quiet, unresponsive. Finally, she asked what was wrong.

"I don't want to get my hopes up," Ianto answered. "You might change your mind by tomorrow. No really, Tosh, think about it," he added, cutting off her automatic protest "Think about what would happen if you were found out helping us. What do you think Jack would do?"

"He'd kill Lisa," Tosh blurted automatically. "And he'd…. Oh, I don't even know what he'd do to us." She actually chuckled. "After he'd finished throwing a fit."

Ianto looked at her incredulously. "You think it's funny?"

Tosh shook her head, shocked at herself. "Adrenaline," she identified. "I'm a bit hyped, I think. Sorry."

They paused beside Tosh's car.

"He'd….kill her, you said," Ianto repeated her words, his voice cracking. "You sounded pretty sure. I thought…but I guess you know him better than I do." Ianto sighed. "I've had this stupid fantasy that he'd help, in the end. He's gone out of his way for so many of the homeless that have come through the Rift."

"He told me once that he lost one of his best friends at Canary Wharf," Tosh said meaningfully.

Ianto nodded. "Guess that means Cybermen and Daleks don't make his compassion list."

Tosh hugged Ianto impulsively. "She's not a Cyberman," she said reassuringly.

Ianto hugged back, hard. "I know. Thank you." He released her and stepped back.

"Think about it though, Tosh," he reminded her. "Don't jump into this. I couldn't…I don't think I could bear it if you started helping and changed your mind later. Back out now, if you're going to. And," he hurried on, before she could protest, "If you do decide not to help, that's fine, I understand. Just please, don't tell anyone else. That's all I ask."

"I won't," Tosh promised. She was annoyed that he still doubted her, but on the other hand, the amount of trust he'd already given her was staggering. He must be wondering if he'd done the right thing. Tosh stretched up and kissed his cheek, again totally on impulse, before jumping into her car. As she drove away, she could see Ianto in the rearview mirror, hand to his cheek. And she realized how starved they both were for simple, uncomplicated affection. It was her last pleasant thought of the night.

-XXX-

High above, someone watched them. From a roof. Jack's coat flapped in the breeze. Tosh's car purred away, taillights vanishing to red specks in the distance. Below, Ianto turned, not to his own car, but back to the Hub. Cleaning up after the big date? Jack fought the emotions twisting in his stomach. He headed for the lift that would take him back to ground level, trying to sort it all out in his head.

It had been a frustrating evening. He'd had his eye on a stunning blonde, whose girlfriend arrived at just about the time Jack was planning to move in for the kill. Jack wasn't used to missing out once he'd picked a target, and watching Owen and Suzie leave together hadn't make him feel any better. No prizes for guessing what they'd be up to tonight.

Tosh had left hours ago. Jack had wondered why she'd agreed to join them when it was obvious she'd wanted to leave practically from the minute they'd arrived. Now he knew. Distracting them all so she could slip back and meet Ianto. _His_ Ianto. The elusive, enigmatic, frustrating, Goddamn gorgeous Welshman. There was a growl somewhere in Jack's chest. He knew he had no right to be feeling like this, but the knowledge wasn't helping.

I should never have employed him, Jack berated himself. But no, to have turned him away because I was attracted to him is just as bad as employing him because of it. And the worst part of all was he _still _didn't know which one it was. Had he employed Ianto in spite of the attraction, or because of it?

The lifted clattered downwards. Ianto and Tosh. How long had this been happening? But it didn't make sense. Tosh recoiled from all things physical. Understandable, given her history. But it was Ianto she'd turned to when her mother was shot, Ianto whom she'd welcomed into her home while she was mourning. She'd kissed Ianto. And he'd let her. On the cheek, admittedly.

Jealously settled in Jack's gut regardless. Ianto refused to kiss _him_, refused to allow it. Hardly even looked at him while they….He's using me, Jack realized suddenly. Tosh won't, maybe can't, get physical with him, so I'm the outlet. It was almost funny. Almost. Jack was used to _having_ an outlet, not _being _one.

But it _is _better this way, Jack told himself firmly, stepping onto the invisible lift and letting it lower him back inside the Hub. I can't afford to get involved with anyone now, anyway. The century has turned. If that prophet was right, the Doctor will be here soon and I'll be gone. Better this way. We're both getting exactly what we want. As the lift ground to a halt, Jack could hear the sound of someone moving around in the archives. A predatory smile settled onto his features. He's still here. And we've both missed out tonight. Perfect timing. Couldn't be better. But try as he might, Jack couldn't avoid the suspicion that maybe he was just trying to claim his territory.

-XXX-

Ianto slipped back into the Hub, hoping the alarm wouldn't wake Lisa. It had been a big night for her and she needed to rest. He moved quietly through the archives and into the basement. Good, still asleep. Far above, the echoes of the lift mechanism sounded. Only Jack could operate the lift from outside. Damn it, Ianto thought resignedly. He's back, and I was so caught up with Tosh I forgot to move my car underground. He must know I'm still here. And yes, within seconds of the lift stopping, Jack's voice bellowed his name. Ianto locked the basement, bolting into the archives as Jack called again. Impatient tonight, Ianto thought, with a kind of half-contemptuous amusement. He hurried back through the archives, intent on getting into the main Hub before Jack seized him. At least, he thought resignedly, as he was pushed back against the wall, as he let everything vanish in a wave of purely physical sensation, At least we'll all get a good night's sleep tonight.

-XXX-

Ianto killed my adrenaline rush, Toshiko thought glumly, as she drove home. But as the night wore on, she realized how justified his doubts were. Fear poured in as the adrenaline died. Tosh hardly slept that night. She thought about what might happen if Jack found out she knew Ianto's secret. At the very least she'd have to expect dismissal from Torchwood, with attendant Retcon. The penalty for actually helping would be much worse. _He could send her back._ When she finally slept, Tosh had nightmares about being back in the prison. She woke, shaking, covered in sweat. She couldn't risk that. She couldn't.

Ianto opened the Tourist desk early the next morning. He wanted to make sure he saw Toshiko when she arrived. Lisa had been awake when he'd gotten back to the basement, and they'd talked for hours. The discussion had alternated between excitement about what Tosh could do for them, and planning what to do if she changed her mind. Lisa was exhausted now. Talking tired her.

Ianto saw the shadows under Toshiko's eyes as she entered, carrying a tray of Starbuck's coffees. He wondered if she'd brought her own coffee so she could avoid him for the morning. But he couldn't risk that. He had to find out what she'd decided. There was a bottle of Retcon in his pocket, not that she'd take it if she'd decided to betray him. Not willingly. Ianto swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. He hated the thought of forcing the pill onto her, but he'd do it if he had to. For Lisa.

But Tosh only smiled weakly and placed one of the Starbuck's cups on his desk. She leaned forward so the CCTV couldn't record the way her lips moved and spoke softly.

"I want to help," she said intensely. "But I'm scared." Just that. Ianto released his grip on the bottle in his pocket.

"Take your time," he said, equally softly. "I don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

A veiled threat, Tosh thought, fear coiling inside her. But perhaps he was justified. She'd practically forced him to confide in her, promised help, and now she was on the verge of backing out.

"I have to pick a side, don't I?" she asked, looking directly into Ianto's eyes, seeing the weariness, the loneliness, and yes, the fear. Hating her own cowardice.

Ianto shook his head. "You don't owe us anything." He made a sudden decision. He was trapped in this. Trapped with Lisa. But he could set Tosh free. He reached back into his pocket, concealing the tiny bottle in the palm of his hand. "If you want to back out," he said meaningfully, dropping the bottle into the cardboard coffee tray.

Tosh pondered the significance of that bottle for the rest of the morning. She could forget everything. Back away with no guilt, with no risk of Jack ever finding out what she knew. Ianto was offering her an escape. With the woman he loved suffering, still he made no demands. Tosh realized with wonder that she'd never met anyone so thoroughly _good _before in her life.

Ianto didn't bring it up again. Well, he wouldn't want to risk triggering her memory if she _had _taken the Retcon, would he? So while Tosh made up her mind, she began with little things. Undetectable things. Painkillers. Lisa was in pain. Tosh managed Torchwood's firewall. It was simple to intercept Owen's monthly pharmaceutical order. A tiny alteration, moving the 'quantity' from the zeroes column to the 'tens,' gave them a surplus of painkillers. When the confirmation from the suppliers arrived, she altered the figures back before it reached Owen's inbox. Easy. Undetectable. She warned Ianto what to expect via a muttered conversation on her way out that day, warmed by the stunned gratitude on his face.

When the delivery arrived, Lisa had morphine for the pain and anti-inflammatory drugs for the swelling around the places where the metal had imperfectly invaded her body. Owen had his full order. No one suspected anything. As Lisa improved, Ianto began to smile again.

The CCTV was next. Tosh modified the camera outside the basement so that it continuously displayed a view of empty corridor. A common trick, easily detected if you were foolish enough to use a short loop. Tosh's loop contained twenty-four hours of footage. Well, twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes. A slight time delay, so if anyone did check, they wouldn't get suspicious about the fact that a mouse ran across the hallway at 10.42 pm every night. Ianto no longer had to waste time every day deleting the footage of himself entering and leaving the basement. He had time for proper meals again.

Tosh knew that Ianto was still vigilant about deleting the _other_ footage. Her mind still cringed away from that. Ianto never referred to it, but Tosh could see the haunted expression in his eyes those mornings after Jack had to be 'distracted'. And she decided to help him with that, too. All it took was arranging after-work drinks with the team, so that Jack was safely out of the way. Some nights at least. So Ianto didn't need to 'distract' him as often. Ianto started getting some real sleep. On a mattress on the floor beside Lisa.

Tosh knew she'd crossed the line when she started taking a turn on that mattress, so Ianto could sleep in a real bed, or get a proper meal, without suffering from guilt at leaving Lisa alone. He even got the chance to go to his nephew's birthday party. After her first night on the mattress, reveling in Lisa's breathless gratitude, Tosh realized how far she'd gotten into this, and that she really didn't want to back out. But it wasn't until the next 'after work drinks' night that she finally picked her side.

Tosh was still nursing her first glass of wine, fuming silently over the fact that no-one ever thought to invite Ianto to join them. Not even Jack. Not that Ianto would accept, but they could _ask,_ surely? Tosh watched contemptuously as Suzie and Owen began snogging drunkenly in a corner. Jack just laughed at them and went back to chatting up the barmaid. Leaving Tosh alone at the table. Team bonding, yeah right. And Tosh realized suddenly that she didn't like any of them half as much as she liked the quiet young man trying desperately to keep his girlfriend alive. Or even as much as she liked the tortured woman trapped in that machine. Lisa hadn't said much - she didn't really have enough breath for conversations - buIt Tosh liked the way Lisa's eyes followed Ianto, even thought the rest of her couldn't move.

Quite suddenly, her mind was made up. She'd picked a side. She left the others drinking and snogging in the pub and went back to Hub. Called Ianto first, of course, so he wouldn't panic when the alarm went. He had the basement door unlocked by the time she arrived.

"I think," Tosh announced, as she entered, "that's it's time I had a look at that respirator."

Ianto's smile was blinding. Lisa's face was blank. And it was Lisa's life, so it was her eyes Tosh looked into. "If you want me to, Lisa," she added intently.

"Of course we do," Ianto said eagerly.

Tosh looked back at him, smiling. "It's up to Lisa, Ianto." She looked back at Lisa, noting that the morphine seemed to be wearing off. It explained the blank expression. She was trying to control the pain. Good, in a way. She could decide with a relatively clear mind. "Do you trust me to do this, Lisa? I might," Tosh swallowed. "I might just make things worse, you know."

Lisa's eyes moved. The only part of her that could. To Ianto and back. "How could it get worse?" she asked.

_AN: If anyone wants to know more about what's going on with Jack/Ianto behind the scenes of this fic, check out 'Cocky' by Stossle. Exactly how I'd have put it, if I had the talent! (Or if I could write slash without laughing at myself cos I'm so bad at it)_


	10. Chapter 10

_**OOOPS Sorry everyone I put the wrong Chapter 10 in before - fixed now. Thanks Stossle for pointing it out. This is why you should never forget to LivePreview!**_

**Thank you to all the reviewers who have made me realise how harsh I am being to the poor characters. (Especially Jack, not that he doesn't deserve it sometimes). But the story needs balance. This chapter will hopefully address that before I go back to making them suffer. I hope you enjoy it.**

It was a right old conspiracy, Tosh decided. Right under Torchwood's nose. Right under Jack's nose. The sense of power made her dizzy sometimes. She'd longed for power, back when she'd been nothing more than a victim. And here she was, meek little Toshiko Sato, the geek, the good girl, breaking all the rules. Breaking the rules with reckless abandon and she didn't give a damn. Because, for the first time since those terrorists had contacted her, Tosh felt good about herself.

Of course, there were times when the pendulum swung back. There were mornings when she awoke sweat-soaked and trembling from the grip of another nightmare, when the fear of being caught and punished was almost overwhelming. And with those night-time visions of her cell so fresh in her mind, she lay trembling in her lonely bed and thought longingly of the bottle of Retcon in the medicine cabinet. She often went to the point of taking it out of the cupboard. Sometimes she even retrieved the recording they'd made, for her to play as the Retcon took hold. The carefully worded recording that would erase Lisa from her memory while retaining all the memories she wanted to keep. All Tosh had to do was pick up the phone, send Ianto a text message so he'd know what she was about to do, so that he wouldn't inadvertently trip her memory back. And the temptation to be free of all the deception was strong. Intoxicating. But as she lifted the phone Ianto's face would drift before her eyes, or she'd remember Lisa's patient suffering, and her courage would flow back in. Because they needed her.

She was helping someone. She was making someone's life better. She was helping her _friends. _

Tosh had never felt as though she was really helping anyone before. Even though she worked for Torchwood, and Torchwood's only purpose was to protect the Earth. Tosh knew that, and on a very deep level she was proud of it. Ultimately, the work she did would save lives. Just, somehow, day to day, it didn't really feel like that. Trapping another Weevil, watching it locked into a cell, didn't feel like helping. Cells made her nauseous. Tosh hated locking another being into one. Sometimes the eyes of a particular Weevil reminded Tosh of the eyes that looked back from the mirror, the morning after a nightmare.

Testing the glove – well, being there while Suzie used the glove - that felt sickening, not helpful. Tosh used to think that giving someone back even a few minutes of life would be a good thing, but they were all so _frightened_. And the reactions of the team were almost as bad. Suzie absolutely adored that glove. Loved it, literally. The look in her eyes when wearing the glove was uncannily close to the expression in Ianto's eyes when he was with Lisa. Owen was fascinated with it too, this reanimation of a corpse. Tosh didn't like that either, but she conceded it was understandable, in a way. Surely every doctor's ultimate ambition was to cheat death? And Jack was fixated on death itself. "What was it like?" he'd ask the victims, with what sounded very like longing in his voice. Tosh took over the task of timing the length of the glove's effect. She could concentrate on the numbers, then, instead of the victim, or the unwholesome reactions of her team-mates.

Counting the seconds, the minutes stolen back from death, Tosh sometimes asked herself, 'What would Ianto do, if he was here?' Hold the victim's hand and talk soothingly, no doubt, the way he did when Lisa's medication delivery system failed. When the pain seared through her and the lack of drugs fogging her mind led to those frightening moments of clarity, of terror at what had happened to her. The times when Lisa begged them to kill her. When only the voice of the man she loved, the touch of his hand in hers, the desperation with which he pleaded for her to 'hang on sweetheart', were all that held her to sanity, to this imitation of life. And whenever she remembered those times, Tosh promised herself again that she'd find a way, _any_ way, to free her friends from their waking nightmare.

What she was doing for Ianto and Lisa - that felt _good_. She still felt guilt about her betrayal of Torchwood, of Jack, but it just couldn't compete with the warmth creeping through the cracks in the barriers she'd built for herself. Ianto had become the family she no longer had, the younger brother she'd so often wished for. And if Ianto was her brother, that made Lisa her sister-in-law, pretty much. She'd sworn to herself she'd never love anyone again. But this was different, this gentle, protective affection that she gave and received in this strange little family of three. They wouldn't hurt each other. They were all too familiar with pain and suffering to dish it out to anyone else. It was _safe_. Warm. Comforting, not dangerous. So overall, Tosh felt good. Whole again, or at least more so than she'd been for years.

And the newly born protectiveness in her saw Jack as a threat. If Tosh had been in Ianto's place, she was convinced she'd be on the edge of her sanity. When Jack wasn't flirting with Ianto, he was watching him. From a distance, mostly, and probably with as much subtly as Jack possessed. Sideways looks, mostly, and corner of the eye glances. But Tosh saw it because she'd begun looking for it. Because that final barrier between herself and Ianto had come crashing down on the day she'd walked in on him cleaning a Weevil cell. Hot, dirty work, with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up – and his tie undone. And just above his collar bone, a livid red bruise.

What it represented disgusted Tosh. Her stomach churned with the memories of that humiliation. She remembered a time when her whole body had been covered by bruises like that. Her body covered in bruises and the bruises covered by the ugly prison overall. Ianto had a shirt collar and silk tie to cover his. But they were the same thing. _Mine _that bruise said. A brand. A brand that would vanish from the skin, but remain in the soul. A mark of ownership. Ownership of another human being. And no one, _no one_ had the right to own anyone else. Especially not Jack.

Ianto hadn't noticed her standing there, until a sob tore loose from her throat. Their eyes met for an instant, and then Tosh ran from the cells and found a corner where she knew a gap in the CCTV existed. They knew all the tiny holes in the CCTV now, Tosh and Ianto. Places where they could talk, or even just be nice to each other, without raising suspicions. Their meeting spots, their hideaways. The tiny realms where honesty reigned. Everything else, everywhere else, was deception.

Ianto found her there, his collar refastened so the bruise was covered. And there he was, victim that he was, comforting _her_. With her head on his shoulder, safe for the first time in so long, Tosh sobbed out her memories, let the tears wash away so much of the pain bottled up inside.

"I hope those tears weren't for me," Ianto chided, when the flood ebbed away.

Tosh looked up, her eyes troubled. "They were for me," she admitted. "But he…he hurt you."

"Not much," Ianto soothed. "And he apologized. I told you right at the start, Tosh. He's not doing me any harm."

Tosh shook her head, eyes fierce. "I hate him," she hissed.

Ianto shook her gently. "Now stop that. No, truly. I'm using him every bit as much, you know that. And deceiving him, betraying whatever trust he's mistakenly given me. He never thinks to question why I'm always here, not when he's got such a flattering reason to believe in. I'm not the innocent here, not any more." Tosh choked back a fresh sob at the sadness on his face. She knew what it felt like, surrendering your own innocence.

"And I'm betraying Lisa, too," Ianto added. He tried to smile, but it wasn't a very convincing effort. "I've tried to tell myself it's not cheating, that at least I'm not betraying her with another woman, that I'm doing it all for her. But excuses don't change the truth, do they?"

Tosh shook her head again, stubbornly. Her fingers brushed the spot on his shirt where the bruise lay concealed. "I still don't understand. He _did_ hurt you. You shouldn't…you shouldn't have to put up with being hurt. I remember…"

Ianto squeezed her shoulders. "It's not like it was for you. No, cariad, you don't have to tell me, I know. I can see how much it hurt you, how much it still hurts you. But it's different for me. I….I decided to do this, I wasn't forced." He paused, eyes distant. "Except by myself, I suppose. I don't choose it, but I don't run away from it either. It's nothing like it was for you, please believe that."

"But it is," Tosh said brokenly. "I….I should have…I didn't…."

"Hush, cariad, you don't have to tell me. You couldn't get away, you didn't have a choice. It's different."

"But I didn't say No," she moaned, into his shoulder, muffling the admission, releasing the guilt. The tearing, aching guilt. "I didn't fight. I didn't stop him. Not at the start, I didn't. I…..I thought he liked me. I thought I liked _him_. Oh Ianto, I was so _stupid_."

There were no more words, not for a while, not until her eyes were dry, her tears spent.

"Better now?" Ianto asked simply.

Tosh nodded. "What was that word you called me?" she asked curiously.

"Cariad?"

Tosh nodded shyly.

Ianto chuckled. "That's the one Welsh word I thought everyone knew. It means Dear One. For…for people you love."

Tosh threw her arms around him again. "I love you too," she whispered into his ear.

They drew back a little and looked at each other, eyes smiling. "But not that way," they chorused.

They went their separate ways. The bruise would fade, but the healing would remain. For both of them.

**Thanks for reading, as always. The next chapter is almost finished so the updates should become more regular again, soon. I hope! I'm a bit staggered that I'm up to 10 chapters and Gwen hasn't even arrived yet...hope I'm not boring anyone. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Excuse the length. I got carried away. There was more but I've moved it to the next chapter. Thank you for all the feedback**

Tosh hummed to herself as she logged in to the Torchwood firewall. She sorted through the files it had caught and reserved for examination, keeping a special eye out for the monthly drug order from Owen. It was late. Late even for Owen. And Lisa was running dangerously low on painkillers. Good, he'd finally issued it. About time. They'd gotten to the point of pillaging the medical bay after Owen had gone and removing all the scalpels. But it had worked. He'd finally gotten around to lodging the order.

Tampering with Owen's drug orders had become a regular thing, now. Routine. Part of her 'to do' list. The first few times, her heart hammered in fear of discovery as she altered the figures. But that didn't happen anymore. Tosh didn't even bother with the furtive glances over her shoulder. Because clever Ianto had positioned a mirror on her workstation so she could see whether anyone was standing behind her.

The monthly deception gave them the luxury of varying the type of painkillers so Lisa didn't become either addicted or immune to any particular drug. After all, when Lisa was free, they didn't want her battling drug dependency. Narcotics one month, opiates the next. Oxycodone last month, so it would have to be morphine this month. They both worked.

But always, there was the pressure to hurry, hurry. Before they were found out. Before Lisa became too weak to survive without support. And the unspoken fear - before Lisa stopped being Lisa.

Tosh hadn't known Lisa before the Cyberman attack. She had no idea how much she'd changed. Ianto insisted she was still the same girl he'd fallen in love with, but the shadows in his eyes were mute evidence he was trying to convince himself. Lisa herself admitted there were things she'd forgotten. And Tosh could see the mood swings. They blamed the drugs. The pain. The isolation. The converter was keeping her alive, they told each other. It wasn't changing her.

"I know she's not the same, not exactly," Ianto had admitted to Tosh one day. "But after what she's been through, there'd have to be some changes, wouldn't there?" And his eyes had begged her to agree.

Tosh thought about what her mother might have been like, if she'd survived. The bullet in her head would have caused brain damage. She'd have been different, too. But no-one would have expected Tosh to stop loving her because of it. So should Ianto feel any differently about Lisa? Of course he shouldn't.

"We'll help her remember," Tosh said staunchly. "We'll make her better."

The next day, Ianto brought in stacks of photo albums. He and Lisa went through them together, over and over, trying to stir her memory. Tosh didn't know if it was working, but it made them both happy.

-XXX-

Each new artifact that arrived on Tosh's desk was a reminder of how far her priorities had shifted. The first question she asked herself nowadays was whether it could be used to help Lisa. Tosh didn't know enough about the converter to be able to see at a glance what was compatible, but she could identify similarities, sometimes. And she'd recently found a device that could quite possibly be used to rejoin the fine wiring that had eluded their current toolkit. She couldn't wait to try it out. Helping Lisa, helping Ianto, had become Tosh's obsession. Her mind shrank away from the thought of what she'd do when Lisa was cured, and they were both gone. Her life would be so empty. So lonely again, just when she'd gotten used to belonging.

Ianto was on his morning coffee rounds. He always served Suzie and Owen first, in an attempt to head off their inevitable complaints. Jack next. Leaving Tosh until last so he had an excuse not to linger in Jack's office. And with no one waiting impatiently for their caffeine fix, they had the opportunity for a quick update on how Lisa had spent the night, at least. This particular morning, Tosh's coffee was accompanied by the eyebrow raise that had become their signal for 'need to talk'.

They didn't risk hiding out in the back of the tourist booth any more. Owen had seen them there once, Suzie a couple of times. And Ianto had a legitimate excuse for lingering at her desk, because there were always artifacts to be boxed up for storage in the archives. So Tosh simply accessed the camera over her desk and muted the sound intake. Not something she would have dared before she'd noticed the way Owen had put a cover over the microphone above his desk. Just a piece of cloth, which probably didn't work anyway, but Jack had seen it and made no comment. Given that, Tosh reasoned he wouldn't get too worked up over some missing audio from her desk. In the unlikely event he checked for it.

So, as long as they didn't look at the camera, they were free to say what they liked, while they went through the motions of packing yesterday's artifact haul for storage.

"He," said Ianto, with the ghost of a grin on his face, "Is taking me Weevil hunting tonight."

"You? Why? Why you?" Tosh asked, with an edge of panic in her voice.

"Says I need some time in the field," Ianto answered.

"It's too dangerous," Tosh protested. "You don't have firearms training."

"I'm handy with a stun gun though," Ianto assured her. "And given a choice," he added, in an attempt to lift the fear from her eyes. "I'd rather wrestle a Weevil in the field than Jack in the Hub any day."

Tosh's face crinkled as she fought back a laugh.

"And my instructions are to stay back and let him play the hero, more or less. I think I'm just the clean up crew."

Tosh looked at her friend with worry clear in her eyes. She still didn't like it.

"That's not what I wanted to talk about, though," Ianto added, before she could argue any more. "I was hoping you'd stay with Lisa while I'm gone."

"Of course," Tosh said. Her eyes widened at a sudden idea. "If he's going to be out that long, I can divert some power down there. Finish the respirator, maybe. Try out that tool I found."

Ianto smiled gratefully at her enthusiasm. "Thanks, Tosh."

"I'll stay all night," Tosh decided suddenly. "You go back to your flat."

Ianto frowned. "You sure?"

Tosh nodded. "If you're going to be keeping him busy all evening, you shouldn't have to…to occupy him back here as well. And you…well, it hasn't healed yet."

Ianto rubbed unconsciously at the bruise under his collar. Faded to a dark smudge now, but still tender. He could use a night off, he reflected ruefully. Jack rarely spent an evening out of the Hub anymore. So of course he noticed if Ianto didn't leave either – and he only ever put one interpretation on Ianto staying behind when everyone else was gone. And if Ianto left when the others did, well, Jack was always there when he tried to sneak back in to Lisa. Same result.

"You never know," Ianto said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "He might be trying to make up for it."

Tosh's eyes widened. Then she chuckled too. Couldn't help herself, given the unexpected mischief in Ianto's eyes.

"Do you suppose he thinks it's a date?" she giggled. "Hunting down a fearsome beast while you watch admiringly from the sidelines? He's really out to impress, isn't he? Captain Caveman."

Ianto's hand slid up to cover his mouth. He was laughing. Trying not to make any noise, of course, but the hand over his mouth was shaking and his eyes were full of mirth.

"Do you suppose he'll expect me to put out afterwards?" he said eventually, eyes twinkling. "First date, after all."

Tosh actually snorted, just from the effort of keeping her laughter inside. "That's it then. I'm definitely staying tonight. And I'll be checking he gets back. You go home, _alone_, young man. No funny business. Do you hear me?"

The motherly admonishment did it, for both of them. Laughing helplessly at her desk. At more than the admittedly weak joke. The last barrier was down. They were, finally, talking easily about the topic they'd avoided for so long.

"Oi, you two, what's the joke?" Owen asked sharply from across the Hub. Suzie hadn't noticed, of course. She had her earmuffs on against the roar of the blowtorch she was using. And no one noticed Jack glowering from his office.

Tosh recovered first, thinking quickly. "I was just telling Ianto about an article in this month's _New Scientist_," she began innocently. "The fool who posed this theory used zero kinetic energy as the ground state."

"Such a basic mistake," Ianto put in, playing along.

"Really, how he ever got published…." Tosh continued.

They broke off into giggles again as Owen's eyes glazed over. Ianto loaded the boxes of artifacts onto a trolley and headed for the archives, still chuckling. His mask dropped long enough to cast a wink back over his shoulder at Tosh.

From Jack's office came the sound of smashing glass. "Sorry," Jack called, coming to the door. "Dropped something." But his eyes were dark, and they followed Ianto across the Hub. "Owen," he yelled, "Get in here."

Owen rose, face contorted into a scowl. "Bet it's no worse than a paper cut," he told Tosh on his way past. "Years of training all so I can put a band-aid on the bosses hand." The doctor grumbled his way into Jack's office.

-XXX-

"Is it helping, looking through those albums?" Tosh asked Lisa, that night. With Jack safely out of the way, Tosh had the luxury of diverting extra power into the basement. She was determined to finish rewiring the respirator tonight. And she was making steady progress, too. She'd already improved it, just by altering the settings.

"I let him think it does," Lisa answered. Already she could speak more easily. They'd have to do some work on getting her lungs back to full strength, though. But that was medical, not technical. Medical meant Owen…..and the idea of approaching him openly was laughable. Literally. Lisa had innocently suggested they ask the doctor's advice about the respirator when Tosh first broached the idea of rebuilding it. Tosh and Ianto had laughed themselves breathless just imagining his reaction. Lisa didn't laugh. Laughing took too much breath. The best she could do was a throaty chuckle.

"I remember what he tells me about the photographs, though," Lisa added proudly. "I know what nearly all of them mean now. Isn't that just as good?"

Tosh choked up. Lisa was 'learning' the photos to make Ianto happy. Evidence both of how important Ianto was to her, and how much she'd lost. It's the drugs, Tosh reminded herself.

"When will he be back?" Lisa asked next.

"Tomorrow," Tosh said. "I'm staying with you tonight, remember?"

"While he's out with the boss," Lisa agreed. "I'd forgotten. Sorry. They spend a lot of time together, don't they?"

Tosh desperately cast around for a way to change the subject. She really wasn't comfortable discussing Jack and Ianto, afraid she'd let something slip. But the longer she waited, the heavier the silence grew.

"I know what he's doing," Lisa said quietly, her eyes suddenly clear. Tosh had come to expect this, too. They usually relished these moments, when the drugs wore off enough for clarity, but not enough for the pain to become unbearable. In those moments, Tosh sometimes saw the woman Lisa used to be. But she wasn't relishing _this_ moment. Tosh would have preferred a nice bit of vagueness to help her past the awkwardness.

"He's working," Tosh said brightly.

"Tonight, maybe," Lisa conceded.

"Jack relies on him to help get all the paperwork done," Tosh offered. She bit her lip. She still wasn't a very good liar, despite all the practice she'd been getting lately. It was different, lying to a friend. Harder.

"He's shagging the boss so he won't find me," Lisa said bluntly. "This contraption gives me good hearing, you know."

Tosh blinked.

"It's all right," Lisa added, with a surprising lack of bitterness. "I can't give him that anymore. I don't grudge him finding release somewhere else."

"But it's not like that," Tosh spluttered. "He's not _enjoying_ it."

"You can't hear it," Lisa returned sharply. "I can."

Tosh felt sick.

"Would you prefer that he hated it?" Lisa added, in a cold voice. "He used to. He used to cry and throw up afterwards. I could hear him, but there was nothing I could do to help. Couldn't even thank him for what he was going through for me. Then he'd come back down here and smile at me, even kiss me, with that man's scent all over him. And I couldn't help, couldn't even try to make him feel better, because he didn't want me to know." There was a quality to her voice that told Tosh she'd be crying, if she could.

"Oh Lisa, I'm so sorry," Tosh said, shedding the tears that Lisa couldn't.

"I'd have killed your boss then, if I could," Lisa continued implacably, her eyes dark pits. "I still would."

Tosh's tears stopped. But she didn't really mean it, did she? Just one of those things you say when you're angry. And Lisa had every right to be angry. Tosh could clearly remember how she'd felt the first time she'd seen Ianto on the CCTV. She'd seen the tears, too. And it had made _her_ angry. Lisa must feel so much worse.

"But he doesn't hate it anymore," Lisa finished defiantly. "And I'm glad."

"But he doesn't. He isn't," Tosh spluttered. "He loves you."

"I know that," Lisa said patiently. "And I know he's only doing it to protect me. But after all he's given up for me, at least I can try to be pleased he's getting some fun out of it." And she gave the hollow giggle that was the closest she could manage to a laugh.

There it was again. That lightening change of emotion. The moment where Lisa decided to react the way she though was expected of her. It was, Tosh decided, more of the same attitude as the photos. A missing connection. The connection between what she actually _could_ feel, and what she knew she _ought_ to feel. Like she'd read a definition of love and was trying to live up to it. It was obvious, though, that Lisa would put up with anything, do anything, if she thought it was what Ianto wanted. And he'd do the same. He _was_ doing the same. It made Tosh more determined to find a way of freeing Lisa, before there was nothing of her left. Before Lisa and Ianto had spent so much time deceiving each other they ended up strangers. If that hadn't happened already.

Lisa sighed as the morphine flowed through her system again. "That's better," she said. "It was starting to hurt." Her dark eyes regarded Tosh dreamily as the narcotic took hold, and then drifted shut. She'd fallen asleep. Tosh was relieved. She didn't want to continue that particular conversation. Not now. Not ever.

But within minutes Lisa's eyes flickered open again. Tosh tensed.

"Where's Ianto tonight?" Lisa asked fretfully.

Tosh released a relieved breath, grateful for the forgetfulness, just this once. And she was ready with a lie, now.

"He's gone to visit his sister," Tosh answered confidently.

"Rhiannon," Lisa recited, obviously proud she'd remembered the name. "And she lives in South Wales, so he's staying the night, right?"

Tosh pasted on her best fake smile. "That's right, Lisa. I'll be here if you need anything. And you should try to sleep now, sweetheart. It's late."

Lisa closed her eyes obediently. Tosh adjusted the respirator to the slower setting more suitable for sleep and watched carefully as the tension gradually disappeared from Lisa's tortured body. She was really asleep this time. Tosh settled back to her work, losing herself in the technicalities. Finished the wiring. Programmed a trigger in the relays that would set the respirator for sleep when Lisa's brain activity matched sleep state. Fine tuning. Exposed wires hidden, rough edges smoothed. Emptied the waste collectors, filled the nutrient dispensers. Clinical and routine and comforting.

The respirator was as good now as she'd be able to make it. Tosh sat back on her heels with an immense feeling of satisfaction. But it didn't last. So much more to do.

The next step was getting Lisa's lungs strong enough to work on their own. Lisa's breathing had been too fast, too shallow. Her lungs weren't inflating properly. Ianto would have been shattered if he'd realized how much Lisa's lungs had deteriorated simply from being underused. Even with Tosh's limited medical knowledge, she was surprised Lisa had escaped pneumonia. Maybe the converter boosted her immune system? But still, she'd need some sort of physiotherapy before those weakened lungs could breathe by themselves. But Tosh couldn't discuss it with Ianto. He wasn't to know he'd had the respirator settings up too high. And he'd blame himself for not knowing the correct settings. Tosh sighed as she lowered herself onto the mattress, ready for sleep. She needed medical advice.

Which took her back to Owen. Not that Tosh wanted an excuse to spend time with Owen, of course she didn't. But who else could she talk to that knew anything about respirators? I'll think of a way, Tosh vowed. I have to.

As her mind drifted towards rest, Tosh remembered that unsettling conversation. She shuddered. At least Ianto hadn't been there to hear it. And it was forgotten now. Yes, for once Tosh was devoutly grateful for the forgetfulness. Lisa mustn't know. And Ianto must never hear what Lisa had said tonight. It would destroy him if he thought Lisa knew about what he still considered his betrayal. I have to free her, Tosh thought desperately. I have to free them both.

**So is Lisa naughty or nice, what do you think? Next chapter up soon, where Owen & Jack are getting sneaky**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to the lovely reviewers who have been kind enough to make suggestions for improving this story. Keep them coming, I'll incorporate everything I can.**

**This chapter takes place the morning following the events in the previous chapter.**

The ringing of her phone dragged Tosh reluctantly into wakefulness. She located the annoying object purely by sound, her eyes still screwed determinedly shut.

"Hello," she mumbled into it.

"This is your wake up call, Miss Sato." Ianto's voice. Tosh felt her face stretching into a smile.

"I'm awake," she assured him. The subdued lighting in the basement was no shock to her sleep-filled eyes as they opened. She was grateful for the phone call though. The rhythmic sound of the respirator always lulled her into a very deep sleep. As a result, she usually experienced a few moments of disorientation when she woke, expecting to see the walls of her flat when her eyes opened. Not this morning.

"Want me to pick you up some fresh clothes?" Ianto asked. She could hear the rumble of traffic in the background. He must already be on the way in.

"Yes please," Tosh answered, through a yawn. She hadn't originally planned to stay last night, so she hadn't brought a change of clothes. And she could just imagine the comments if Suzie noticed her wearing yesterday's outfit. "Who was the lucky boy?" would be about the mildest.

Tosh and Ianto had keys to each others homes, just for occasions like this. Looking after whoever stayed with Lisa. This, admittedly, was usually Ianto. He preferred it that way, anyway.

"Anything particular you want me to look for?"

"You choose," Tosh answered lazily, hauling herself upright. Ianto never failed to produce an outfit from her wardrobe that matched better than anything she'd put together herself. Was there _anything_ he couldn't do?

"Lisa's still asleep," Tosh added. "We stayed up a bit late last night."

"Girl's night, huh?" She could hear the smile in his voice. He loved the fact that Lisa had another woman to talk to. "Should I be worried?"

Tosh shuddered as she remembered Lisa's revelations the previous night. Yes, he should be worried, not that she'd tell him. But they'd have to think up some better cover stories for why Ianto spent so much time with Jack. And how awkward was that going to be, given that she couldn't let on to Ianto why they had to be more creative?

"Not telling," Tosh evaded, padding over to the alcove with the hand-basin, where they each kept basic toiletries. "Respirator's finished."

"You're a genius Tosh."

"So you keep saying. How was the big date last night?"

"We nabbed three Weevils," Ianto answered. "And not a scratch on either of us. That sedative spray Owen developed works a treat."

"That's not what I meant," Tosh scolded

Deep chuckle. "Let's just say it's a good thing I left my car at the Hub yesterday. He wanted to drive me home."

"And drive you back in this morning, no doubt," Tosh said darkly.

Ianto called again as he arrived at the Plass, so Tosh could be ready to meet him. She slipped into the main Hub as the cog alarm sounded, grabbed the garment bag and vanished into the staff bathroom to change.

Jack heard the cog alarm from the depths of his bunker. He finished dressing and climbed the ladder to his office, brooding. He told himself he should have been pleased about the outcome of the previous evening. Ianto had kept a clear head faced with the Weevils. Only to be expected, really, given that he'd helped take out a Weevil the first time they met. And the point of the exercise had been to see whether he was ready for field work, hadn't it? In case they needed an extra hand in the field. Backup, like Tosh used to do before Suzie cleared her for fieldwork. That's all. Nothing more. Just work. And he'd be fine, once he had some firearms training. Jack grinned wolfishly. That would be fun. Wouldn't pass it off onto Suzie this time.

He should have expected Ianto to be tired after they got the Weevils back. He wasn't used to that much activity, considering he usually spent most of his time behind a desk. That was why he'd gone straight home after. And he _had _gone home. The GPS locator confirmed that, when Jack had accessed it. He had to make sure the young man got home safely. Driving while fatigued was dangerous, after all.

The welcome sound of the coffeemaker echoed in the silent Hub. Jack smiled broadly as Ianto emerged from the kitchen, bearing a tray with two mugs. This _was_ progress. He'd never brought his own coffee into Jack's office before. But the cheery Good Morning froze on his lips as Ianto stopped to deliver the first mug. Toshiko was already at her desk. Only one cog alarm. They'd come in together.

-XXX-

The fates were being kind for once, Tosh decided. Owen himself had suggested after-work drinks. As the evening progressed, Tosh carefully worked the conversation around to medical technology. Once the discussion got technical, Jack and Suzie retreated to another table. Perfect. Tosh led the conversation slowly towards life support, mentioning some of the machines she'd seen in the ICU, hooked up to her mother. It stabbed into her soul, using her mother's tragedy as a ploy. But what choice did she have? She couldn't let Owen suspect anything. He'd go straight to Jack and if Jack started digging, Lisa would die. And Ianto would be as good as dead, too, with the heart snuffed out of him.

All she'd really hoped for from Owen was a few clues about what sort of research to do. She hadn't expected the enthusiastic response. Tosh hadn't realized how much Owen enjoyed talking about what used to be his career. It was easy to guide him into describing the types of physiotherapy Lisa would need.

Somewhere during the conversation, Suzie returned to their table. It was obvious that she was trying to get Owen's attention, and equally evident he was ignoring Suzie's efforts. Eventually Suzie made a bored comment about 'techno babble' and left. Owen didn't even look up. They must have had another fight. Jack left soon after. Alone. Hadn't even made his usual effort to charm the bar staff. Tosh was so busy sending Ianto a quick text to warn him Jack was on his way back, that it took her a while to realize she was alone with Owen. Tosh's pulse began to flutter. Why hadn't he left, too? Had her questions gotten him curious after all?

"Another drink?" Owen asked.

"Err." Tosh said intelligently. "No thanks, I'm driving."

"Soft drink, then," Owen urged. "Or coffee."

"OK, Sure." At least she'd have time to collect her thoughts while he was buying the drinks. "Lemon, lime and bitters please."

Owen wandered off to the bar. Tosh considered fleeing. She was sure he was suspicious. I'm a useless conspirator, Tosh thought hopelessly. They were mad to trust me. I'm going to get them found out. Any minute now. But if I run away it'll only make things worse. I have to bluff my way through this.

"So why the sudden interest in physio?" Owen asked intently, placing her drink in front of her.

"No reason," Tosh said. But she'd come up with a plausible excuse while he was gone. "Just, um, sometimes I wonder what my mother would have been like, if she'd survived." And that much was true. Tosh often thought about her mother when she was with Lisa. Working to save Lisa had somehow become Tosh's reparation for failing to protect her own mother.

Owen's hand took hers, the contact fizzing from her fingers to her brain. What was he doing? Was he about to drag her back to the Hub for interrogation?

"How are you coping?" Owen asked. There was a gentle note in his voice she hadn't heard since that awful night in the hospital.

Tosh stared at him in silence, trying to get her brain working. Compassion? From Owen?

"I'm fine," she answered awkwardly.

"Yeah, right," Owen scoffed. "You don't have to do it alone, you know."

_I'm not, _Tosh thought fondly, as her phone buzzed with an incoming message. Ianto. Impeccable timing, as always. He'd remembered to move his car tonight. Now, as long as Jack didn't think of checking the GPS again– he'd done that once, she could tell from the access logs – Ianto could spend the whole night with Lisa.

Tosh had plans for the GPS though. Later tonight, she was going to Ianto's flat to plant a device she'd stumbled across. It would echo the GPS so they could make it appear that Ianto's car was at his flat when it was hidden underground near the Hub. Just in case of a night time alarm. Or, as Ianto put it, a night time urge on Jack's behalf.

"Message from your bloke?" Owen asked sharply.

Tosh blinked. "Me? No. Um." She swept the phone from the table into her handbag. "Actually," she babbled, improvising wildly, "It's from a support group. You know, for grieving. Reminding me there's a meeting later tonight."

Owen nodded approvingly. "Glad you're doing something. You should let your friends help, too, though." His hand was stroking hers again. And she was melting inside. But this was Owen. He was with Suzie, wasn't he? And Suzie was possessive.

"What's Suzie doing tonight?" Tosh asked pointedly, withdrawing her hand. Strange how cold her hand felt, suddenly.

Owen shrugged. "Whatever she wants. _Who_ever she wants, for that matter."

Tosh blinked. "I thought you two were….um."

"A couple?" Owen laughed coarsely. "Nah. Never. Just friends," he flapped a hand vaguely "with benefits. You know."

And I wish I didn't, Tosh thought. She really_ really_ didn't want to know about Owen's love life. Or Suzie's. It was bad enough that she had to cope with what she knew about Jack's.

"And we're having a break from that, anyway," Owen continued silkily, capturing Tosh's hand again. "Giving each other the opportunity to, well, have a look around. Reassess. Casual's all well and good, but you can't base a lifetime on it, now can you?" His fingers were making patterns on the back of Tosh's hand. And his touch burned like ice.

Had he really broken up with Suzie? His hand was trailing up her wrist now, to her elbow, his fingers burning a path through the fabric of her sleeve. He wasn't talking anymore, just looking at her. Tosh's breath caught in her throat. Daydreams she'd denied replayed in her mind and she wanted to pinch herself to make sure this wasn't just another one. Owen was watching her. Watching her with eyes like marbles. Glassy. That wasn't right. Dream eyes were warm, not cold. Yearning, not calculating. And suddenly his touch turned from fire to ice, chilling her to the bone. This was _Owen_. The _real _Owen, not a dream figure she'd pasted Owen's face onto. This was the Owen who laughed uproariously at Jack's crude jokes. The Owen who kissed Suzie one day and ignored her the next. If she let this continue, he'd expect…..and Tosh froze again, from the core to the skin. She shivered. She wasn't ready for this. Not with Owen. Not with any man. She had to get away. She needed to escape.

From the depths of her handbag, her phone chimed again. Grateful for the diversion, she snatched at it. From Ianto again, bless him. _He's not back yet, _the message read. Tosh hurriedly responded, _Not here either, I'm off now._ She snapped her phone shut and looked apologetically at Owen. Fake remorse. She'd never been so grateful for an excuse to get away.

"I have to go," she said. "That support group meeting. If I don't leave now I'll be late. Thanks for the drink." And she scurried away, ignoring Owen's protests.

Tosh almost ran to her car. Her heart was hammering. She didn't understand what had just happened. Owen _knew_. He knew what had happened to her. How could he have expected her to respond to _that_? Anger rose in her. On the outs with Suzie, so anyone was worth a try. Was that it?

Tosh gunned the engine, taking her anger out on the accelerator. Something she rarely did, so stupid, so dangerous. But tonight it felt soothing, roaring through the quiet streets. Flying away from danger, fleeing from a dream gone sour. A few blocks away she slowed abruptly, remembering her self-imposed mission of the night, annoyed that she'd let herself get distracted. She was nearly out of range already. Tosh hesitated, wondering whether to just leave it until tomorrow. No, she decided, there could be a Rift alert anytime. A free night wasn't to be wasted and keeping busy would stop her brooding over whatever the hell had just happened.

Tosh pulled over into the side of the road and retrieved the artifact from the depths of her bag. She and Ianto had already programmed it to recognize the signature of his car, so she sat back and let it search. There. Tosh locked the signal, tossed the device onto the seat beside her and drove much more sedately to Ianto's flat. Working always calmed her. If Jack did bother checking the GPS again, it would appear that Ianto was making his way home. And the device would remember the path she'd taken tonight, so she could reverse it in the morning. Remotely, of course. Tosh was thorough. They could access the program from either of their homes or the Hub itself. Maybe we're being paranoid, Tosh admitted to herself, but Jack had been behaving strangely lately. At all costs, they had to avoid arousing his suspicions about where Ianto spent the nights. It should, Tosh concluded, give Ianto a little more breathing space.

Owen waited until he heard the slam of her car door, listened to the engine start, the diminishing roar as she fled. He smiled grimly, pulled out his phone and sent a message of his own.

The pub door rattled open. Jack stood in the doorway, coat tails flapping in the night breeze. Tosser, Owen thought contemptuously. He could have walked straight in, but no, not Jack. Has to pose in the doorway, thinking he's some sort of superhero. Going for the dark angel look. Batman, eat your heart out. But it worked, Owen had to admit. Every eye turned to Jack. Every woman in sight sat a little straighter, toyed with her hair, crossed her legs. Half the men, too. All those 'look at me' signals aimed at one man. Owen shook his head in reluctant admiration. Had to hand it to him. Jack had IT, whatever it was. And he knew exactly how to use it, too.

Sighs of disappointment wafted in Jack's wake as he collected more drinks and made a beeline to the table where the doctor waited. Owen reflected sourly that he could forget about scoring tonight. He'd seen this before. None of the players in Cardiff bothered with anyone Jack moved in on.

"You could have met me outside," Owen grumbled.

Jack grinned, white teeth gleaming. "It'll do your reputation good. If they can't do me, they'll settle for…"

"Shut up, Harkness."

"So what did you get?" Jack asked lazily, setting the two glasses on the table.

"I got nowhere," Owen told him. "But Tosh got a text. From Teaboy."

Jack dropped gracelessly into his chair. "Well then," he said softly. "Guess we've got some work to do."

_A/N: This being Tosh's story, the Janto action will remain mostly in the background, except as it directly affects Tosh. If you are interested in reading more about what the boys have been up to, Stossle has written a story (with my interference, which she kindly refers to as collaboration) called 'Stars Fill The Sky' which takes place during Chapter 9 of this story and details exactly how Ianto got that hickey. Be warned, it is deservedly **M** and is **definitely** not fluffy, given the situation. It does explain exactly what's going on in Jack's mind. There is a link in my Favourites_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you as always for the reviews, alerts, favourites...you keep me writing! Hope you enjoy.**

Owen reflected smugly that he was the only person who knew Jack well enough to tell how much this had shaken him. You had to know what to look for. Like the tension in the tiny muscles around his eyes. And the way his fingers tightened around his glass, as if he was trying not to grasp it too hard. Which was exactly what he was doing. The glasses Jack drank from tended to crack before he did. Owen couldn't help wondering how the Teaboy had gotten Jack into this state. Or was it just the idea of one of his toys finding someone else they'd rather play with? Quite possibly. As Suzie said, ego the size of a mountain.

"You say Tosh got a text from Ianto," Jack repeated. "Are you sure?"

"Saw the screen before she hid it," Owen confirmed. "She made up some rubbish story about who it was from. Then she got another and took off like someone'd lit a fire under her." He frowned. "Just when things were getting friendly, too."

"Did you see what the message said?" Jack asked intently.

"Not the first one," Owen admitted. "But the one before she took off said 'Not here. I'm leaving.' Something like that."

"They're meeting somewhere," Jack said thoughtfully. "Easy enough to find out." He pulled his PDA from the pocket of his coat and triggered a GPS search.

Owen watched for a moment before shrugging and pulling out his own PDA. They compared the displays. "Both of them on the same route," Owen confirmed. They watched the dots move, same pattern, in perfect synch.

-XXX-

Ianto's phone thrummed under his pillow. Lisa was asleep and he didn't want the ringing of the phone to disturb her, so he'd put it on silent.

"Hi Tosh," he said softly. "How'd it go?"

"It's in place," Tosh confirmed. "On the windowsill in your bedroom. Working well, too, I've checked."

"I meant," Ianto clarified, "How'd it go with Owen?"

"Easier than I thought. He likes talking about medicine. I think I've got all we need."

"You're brilliant, Tosh."

"So you keep saying. How's Lisa?"

"She's good. We're good. Tosh, I…" he broke off awkwardly.

"Hmmm?"

"I kissed Lisa tonight."

Tosh chuckled into the phone. "You always kiss Lisa."

"I mean…since she's breathing better now….we could…a real…"

More giggles. "I know. I was just teasing. That's so sweet." This was taking Tosh back to her teenage years, when she'd spent hours on the phone discussing first kisses with her best friend. She dropped onto Ianto's bed and rolled onto her back, settling in for a good gossip. Just like those teenage days.

-XXX-

Their glasses were drained by the time the dots became stationary. Same address. A growl rumbled in Jack's throat. "His flat."

"This," said Owen thoughtfully "is annoying."

"You think?" Jack rumbled sarcastically.

"Well yeah. I mean, she's a sweet one, our Toshiko. Nice. I didn't think she was on the menu, y'know? Hands off. Kept myself busy with Suzie. I've been careful around Toshiko, didn't want to spook her."

Jack's teeth flashed again. "The perfect gentleman."

"I can be," Owen assured him. "If the lady's worth it." He sipped his drink thoughtfully, relishing the burn of the spirit as it hit his throat. "But I dunno, if Teaboy's in there."

Jack took a careful swallow of his drink. More water than Scotch. "Probably not," he said thoughtfully. "You know what happened to her. She's not there yet."

"You might be right," Owen agreed, remembering Tosh's arm trembling beneath his hand. Remembering how disappointed he'd been when she left. She _was_ a pretty thing, Tosh. Quiet. Sweet. It might have been nice. Hard work, though, given what she'd been through. Owen didn't know whether he had that much patience. Probably not.

"You gotta admire Teaboy," he continued, shaking himself out of his reverie. "He's playing well above his league. But he's being patient. Laying the groundwork and waiting. And all good things come to those who wait, isn't that what they say?"

Owen watched Jack's hand clench suddenly around his glass. "Careful," he warned. "You've already crushed one this week. I don't fancy picking glass out of your palm again." Owen smirked. "I know where that palm's been."

Jack forced himself to relax. Owen was baiting him. And Owen knew exactly which buttons to press. But two could play at that game.

"Want a guided tour?" Jack offered, leering.

"Been there, done that, burned the T-shirt," Owen answered shortly.

Jack rose to the challenge with the smile that had half of Cardiff panting.

Owen shook his head disgustedly. "Waste of ammo, Harkness," he muttered, taking another swallow of his scotch.

-XXX-

"I've missed it," Ianto said softly. "Kissing."

Tosh's eyes widened as she thought about that. All this time with Jack….. "You mean…you don't…with Jack?"

"No. Never. I wouldn't let him." Awkward silence. Ianto suddenly wished he hadn't said anything. But it was so hard, keeping all this inside. "It's the only thing I could keep for Lisa," he explained in a rush. "The only thing we could still have." He closed his eyes, fighting back the tears. Now that he'd said it out loud, it sounded pathetic. As if keeping that one little thing from Jack meant he wasn't betraying Lisa. "Sounds stupid, right?"

Tosh's eyes filled. "It sounds beautiful." She remembered that awkward conversation with Lisa. Which Lisa had forgotten and Tosh wished she could. "And I'm sure Lisa would understand."

-XXX-

"Always worth checking," Jack said teasingly, his foot reaching for Owen's beneath the table.

Owen stamped on the encroaching toes and snickered as the foot withdrew. He counted himself lucky to be relatively immune to Jack's charisma. He'd been too messed up when he started at Torchwood to notice the magnetism that oozed from his new boss. Now he could take it or leave it. Mostly he left it. He'd only taken Jack home once, just curious to see what all the fuss was about. And he'd come to the conclusion that it was like choosing between two brands of cola. Owen was a Pepsi man. He'd take a Coke if it was all that was left on the shelf, but it wasn't his first choice.

Jack usually didn't bother trying it on with him anymore, not that he'd ever really made his best effort. Owen had suggested, after that long ago encounter, that they'd make better hunting partners than bed partners. And Jack had thought that a fine idea. They'd cut quite a track through the sweet things of Cardiff, in the day. Not much of a challenge anymore.

When the game had worn thin, Owen set course for the Good Ship Suzie. And it was time to disembark. He hadn't been lying to Tosh when he'd said that was over. Suzie had been strange lately. Irritable and lost in her own thoughts. Vanishing for no reason, with no explanation where she'd been. Not his idea of fun anymore, Suzie wasn't.

Toshiko, now, that would be different. If it was her playing footsies under the table, Owen wouldn't be complaining. Not at all.

-XXX-

"My turn for confessions," Tosh volunteered, shutting her eyes tightly. If she didn't talk this through with someone, her head might explode just from the confusion. And who could she trust more than Ianto?

"Fire away," Ianto said, blessing her for the change of topic.

"I think Owen made a move on me," Tosh said breathlessly.

Ianto frowned, protective instincts rising in a flood. "Did he hurt you?"

"No Ianto, don't be silly. Of course he didn't."

Ianto relaxed back onto the mattress. "What, then?"

"He talked about how he and Suzie weren't together any more and he…touched me…"

"Where?" Ianto roared, before slapping his hand over his mouth. Lisa stirred but settled again.

"On the hand," Tosh shot back, giggling. "And the arm. We were in the middle of the pub." It really was like having a brother.

"Oh," Ianto felt foolish for overreacting, and then chuckled softly himself. "Did you like it?"

Tosh felt warmth rising in her face. "Yes," she confessed. "Then I got scared."

"Oh, Cariad," Ianto murmured consolingly. "Just give it time. You'll get there. With the right person."

"Are you saying Owen isn't my Prince Charming?"

"Too right, I am," Ianto answered with feeling.

-XXX-

The Teaboy thing must really be hitting Jack in the ego, Owen thought, if he's reduced to trying me again. As if. Sleaze. But Owen knew how to sort Jack out. He had a line ready that would cut deeper than a scalpel.

"Didn't I just say," Owen purred vindictively, watching Jack intently for the reaction he knew was coming, "That I'm not keen on Teaboy's castoffs?"

The glass shattered in Jack's hand. Owen laughed.

"Didn't think you did jealousy," Owen said scathingly, pulling Jack's hand over and checking it quickly for glass shards. Nothing.

"I don't," Jack shot back, incensed, yanking his hand free. But he wasn't surprised. It was typical of their friendship, if it could be called that, for Owen to goad him into something and then worry about the damage. "But I don't share either." He forced himself to relax and pasted a leer back onto his face. "Unless I'm invited to share the sharing. I don't like missing out."

-XXX-

Tosh yawned. "I should get home."

"Stay there if you're tired," Ianto offered. "Someone might as well use the place."

Tosh rolled over on the bed, tempted. She liked Ianto's flat. Neat. Organised. Filled with pictures of him and Lisa. Reminders of better times, symbols of the goal they were working towards.

"No," she decided eventually. "I'll need to go back to my place for clothes anyway. Might as well do it now." She yawned again.

"Stay on the phone, though," Ianto said anxiously. "If you're that tired. Talking will keep you awake while you're driving."

"Don't make such a fuss," Tosh chided, loving it anyway.

"Someone has to," Ianto countered. "And switch to Bluetooth. Both hands on the wheel."

Tosh stuck her tongue out at the phone and made her way back to her car.

-XXX-

Eventually Tosh's GPS indicator started moving again. "She's leaving," Owen announced. The bead of light that was Tosh's car moved through the streets and stopped again at her own address. "Didn't stay the night. Guess he missed out, too."

Jack drummed his fingers on the table, smiling apologetically at the barmaid who arrived to sweep the broken glass away. "Sorry about that, Bree. Don't know my own strength."

As always, the woman melted in the face of Jack's charm.

"Didn't hurt yourself, I hope," she said dotingly, tossing her long auburn hair.

"Not a scratch," Owen answered smoothly, smiling his best smile. The barmaid looked from one man to the other, eyelashes fluttering. Owen's smiled broadened. Perhaps he hadn't missed out tonight, after all. Assuming Jack would bow out, of course.

"Refills?" Bree offered.

"We'd love some," Owen assured her, scanning her appreciatively. "If _you_ bring them."

Bree sashayed away, fully aware of the eyes following her.

Jack was still frowning at the PDA.

Owen smirked. "Don't like it when someone moves in on your toys, do you?" He was quite pleased with that. It was accurate. Jack played with people.

Jack scowled, his handsome face twisting. "I'm trying to protect Toshiko," he said defensively.

Owen snorted.

"He's cheating on her," Jack insisted. Just because he didn't hold with twenty-first century monogamy, didn't mean it wasn't important to someone else. Someone like Tosh.

"Yeah, with you," Owen scoffed. "Is that what you're going to tell her?"

Jack eyed him impassively. "Maybe."

"If you really gave a shit," Owen pointed out, "You'd back off."

Jack didn't answer. If asked, he'd have said Owen was his closest friend. But at the moment he didn't like him much. If at all.

-XXX-

"Hey, Tosh?" Ianto said awkwardly.

"Yes?"

"Jack's not _my_ Prince Charming."

Tosh laughed so hard her eyes blurred. "Don't say stuff like that while I'm driving," she spluttered.

"But he isn't a monster, either," Ianto added quietly.

Tosh's mlaughter died. "What's wrong, Ianto?"

"Sometimes I feel so guilty."

Tosh sighed. "I know. So do I." She remembered Owen's face, animated for once, as he talked about the wonders of medical science. They'd worked together for years and she hardly knew him. Tonight was the first time they'd really talked and she'd just been using him for information. And, she reminded herself, he'd hit on her.

"Jack's been trying to be nice, lately," Ianto continued.

Tosh focused back on the conversation. "What, since he bit you?" she asked cuttingly.

Ianto laughed uncomfortably. "Yeah. But…um…I think he really was sorry."

"So he should be," Tosh said shortly.

"I just wish I could stop this," Ianto said wistfully. "It was bad enough when he was acting like an arsehole, but at least I didn't feel so bad about lying to him then. I try to keep out of his way, but the more I try to avoid him, the more he…well…"

"Can't get enough of you?" Tosh finished.

Ianto laughed hollowly. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Tosh."

"We'll find more ways to keep him distracted," Tosh promised. "The GPS echo I just planted will help. You'll see."

-XXX-

"Christmas next month," Jack said. "Team drinks might be a good idea. The _whole_ team."

"Divide and conquer?" Owen suggested. He could handle the idea of consoling Tosh. Even if it didn't go anywhere. And really, she did deserve better than Teaboy. He'd never admit Jack was right, but it did irk him, the idea of Teaboy dating Tosh and still screwing Jack. She _was_ sweet. She deserved better. Which, he admitted ruefully, rules me out completely.

Jack's frown deepened. "That'd be cruel. Even for us." But his mind was playing out a very satisfactory consolation scene of his own.

Owen grinned. "We could start with observation. Get 'em plastered and see what they do. Proceed if warranted."

"It has potential," Jack said thoughtfully.

"That'll do then," Owen agreed. "I'll set it up. A proper Christmas do. Dinner and all. Torchwood can pay."

-XXX-

"Just arrived home," Tosh reported.

"Good night then," Ianto said, somewhat reluctantly.

"I'll stay tomorrow," Tosh promised. "We'll start getting Lisa strong again."

"Thanks Tosh."

"And we'll talk some more, OK?" Ianto was so strong, but he had to break sometime. Soon, judging by what he'd said tonight. Tosh wanted to be there when he did. He was always there for her.

Ianto sighed. "OK."

And that fact that he hadn't argued worried Tosh even more.

-XXX-

Jack pocketed the PDA and rose gracefully to his feet. He tossed a handful of notes onto the table. "That should cover the breakage. And the refills," he told Bree, as she returned with a fresh tray of drinks. "And buy yourself and Owen here a drink. Or two."

Jack moved smoothly towards the door, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder. They'd played this game before, he and Owen. Jack set up the pieces and Owen cleared the board. Jack lingered just outside the door, listening.

"I can't drink while I'm working," the barmaid said. Jack grinned. Bree was playing coy. Who was she kidding?

"What time do you get off?" Owen countered.

"Hour or two," she answered. "A bit of a wait."

"You gonna make it worth waiting for?" Owen asked confidently.

The only response to that was a breathy giggle.

Jack grinned. Owen was right for the night. Bree was famous for her excellent customer service.

-XXX-

Owen let himself out of Bree's flat. She hadn't gotten out of bed to say goodbye. Not that it mattered. No illusions, Bree. Give and take and don't slam the door on your way out. Probably didn't even notice when he called her by the wrong name. She'd had a different face in her head too, no doubt. Jack, most likely. Owen hadn't missed the way Bree's eyes followed Jack as he left. But Owen didn't care. He'd had a Torchwood face on the inside of his eyelids, too.

-XXX-

Jack found a roof. Roofs calmed his mind. Allowed him to purge his emotions and think. He looked down at the lights of Cardiff, surveying his domain. Below were the people he'd sworn to protect, in honor of that ancient traveler who couldn't always be there to defend them himself.

Jack tipped his head back and searched the starry expanse above. He didn't really expect to see the elusive blue box. The Doctor Detector was still and silent, after all. But he hoped the Doctor arrived soon. The Doctor had changed Jack, turned him into more than the conman he'd been. Made him into someone he'd been proud to be. But he'd waited for over a century, and the years hadn't been kind. It was easier to be bad than good and more fun too. Sometimes the dark won. Making the decision to sacrifice one, or a few, to save the many wasn't as hard anymore. And using other people's loneliness to numb his own had become easier, too. Playing with people, drawing them in, binding them to him, all the while keeping back the part of himself that could be hurt. Because caring too much meant pain. Loving meant losing.

What he and Owen were planning, that was downright cruel. Tosh and Ianto weren't innocents, either of them, not with their pasts. But they were both wounded and if they'd found solace in each other, what right did he have to interfere? Or Owen. Both of them reaching for a pretty new toy only to find someone more deserving had beaten them to it. The right thing was to back away. Make Owen back away too. Because he and Owen broke everything they played with. Easier than risk being broken again yourself.

Only, it felt….good, coming back to the Hub to find Ianto waiting for him. Ianto, who cleaned up after him and brought him food and made that amazing coffee. Ianto, who held back just enough to make him the greatest prize of all. And Jack couldn't let go until he'd won.

But looking up at the purity of the stars, Jack couldn't help wondering what the Doctor would think of the man he'd become.

_Thanks for reading..._


	14. Chapter 14

**Apologies everyone. Haven't posted for ages and a short chapter too. Good excuse though, I'm doing this between trips to the hospital! Decided to post what I had before I have to go back in.**

Torchwood was turning into a place of eye games.

Suzie watched Owen, sending messages whenever he happened to look her way. Curious, hopeful, even flirtatious glances. The way Owen had told it, Tosh thought the breakup was mutual. Guess Suzie didn't share that view. Her eyes said she wanted to rekindle their relationship. And the way Owen's eyes avoided hers suggested he didn't share that view.

Jack was trying _not_ to watch Ianto. It was almost amusing, the way his eyes roamed the Hub until Ianto appeared, at which point Jack became absorbed in whoever he was talking to, or focused on whatever he was working on. But if you watched, as Tosh did, you saw Jack's eyes flick towards Ianto every so often, as if checking he was still there. Tosh wondered if Jack even realized what he was doing.

Tosh was trying to watch _everyone_. All morning, she'd had that itchy feeling at the back of her neck. The one you get when you know _you're_ being watched. She desperately wanted to know who, and more importantly, why. Because she'd just finished manipulating the monthly drug order to get more medication for Lisa, and if anyone suspected that, she and Ianto – and Lisa- were in deep trouble.

Having ruled out Suzie and Jack, that left Owen. Even more ominous, since he was the mostly likely member of the team to notice something wrong with the drug deliveries. Tosh was sure she hadn't made any mistakes, but it was unnerving. But whenever Tosh looked at Owen, he was focused on his terminal, intent.

Tosh had just about convinced herself she was imagining it by the time Ianto delivered her second coffee.

"What've you done to him?" Ianto whispered.

Tosh eyes widened. She hadn't imagined it, then. "Who?"

"Owen, of course. He hasn't taken his eyes off you all morning, except when you look at him."

"Do you think he's noticed what I did with the drugs order?" Tosh whispered anxiously.

Ianto chuckled, blue eyes twinkling. "It's not that sort of look, love."

"Really?" The itchy feeling in her neck vanished, replaced by a flutter in her stomach.

"Really," Ianto confirmed. His features settled into a frown so obviously fake Tosh had to stifle a giggle. "If he bothers you tell me. I'll put him on decaf – or possibly laxatives. I've got some of those chocolate-flavored ones somewhere."

The giggle escaped. Ianto was doing the big brother thing again. And she absolutely loved these rare lighthearted moments, these brief escapes from tension and fear.

"You're a fine one to talk," she whispered back. "Jack's practically drooling over there."

"Well, I'm not wiping his chin," Ianto hissed, turning away. Tosh sobered abruptly. She'd only meant to tease him, as he'd been doing to her. But it had obviously hurt him. She'd known something was wrong, after his uneasiness on the phone last night. He'd promised to talk to her about it, and Tosh decided she'd hold him to that promise. Talking would help, even if there was nothing she could do to fix it.

Later in the morning, Ianto returned to collect Tosh's pile of catalogued artifacts that were ready to be archived. Tosh muted the CCTV over her desk and they managed a hasty consultation as they loaded the artifacts onto a trolley.

"Sorry about before," Ianto muttered.

"It's OK," Tosh assured him. "Physio tonight?"

Ianto nodded. "I talked to Lisa about it this morning. She's excited."

They smiled at each other. "She's not the only one," Tosh added happily. "We'll have her out of that thing in time for Christmas."

Ianto's eyes shone. "Wouldn't that be something? But for tonight…" and the light died from his eyes. He swallowed. "Guess I was wrong about chin wiping."

Tosh watched as Ianto wheeled the trolley towards the archives. She saw his eyes flick to Jack, meeting the older man's gaze for once. Jack smiled, nodded and finally dropped his eyes back to his desk. Tosh's stomach stopped fluttering with thoughts of Owen and started churning uneasily instead. They were using each other, Ianto said. But if it was that casual, how on Earth did they manage to communicate just with a single glance? Was that why Jack watched Ianto so closely? Was he afraid that if he looked away he'd miss that glance? Was he…? Were _they_….?

Tosh shook her head, mentally chastising herself. It wasn't like that. Ianto loved Lisa. As soon as Lisa was free of that machine they'd be gone, both of them. And Ianto would never give Jack another thought. Unless Jack went after him. That, Tosh thought, will be my job. Making sure Jack never finds out what Ianto was hiding or where he and Lisa flee to. The thought was comforting, in a strange way. Up until now all Tosh had considered when she thought about the future was how lonely she'd be without them. It was comforting to think she could still help her friends after they'd gone. She slumped back into her chair to consider that, the sudden movement giving her the chance to meet Owen's eyes. Tosh felt a glow begin somewhere deep inside as Owen twitched away to stare at his terminal again, his cheeks tinged faintly red.

Maybe she wouldn't be so alone, after all.

-XXX-

Jack heard the cog alarm from the depths of his bunker. So he'd gone. Run away, like he always did. Jack's gut churned as he remembered the mumbled "Stay" escaping his lips as Ianto slid away. Had he really said it? Pathetic. Goddamn loneliness. That's all it is, Jack assured himself, rolling over and punching his pillow, summoning back sleep with the familiar routine. It's not him. Anyone would do. I'm just sick of being alone. As soon as I'm back with the Doctor, I'll forget all about Ianto.

Tosh waited until she heard the cog alarm before darting forward to meet Ianto. They hadn't managed to come up with a way of disabling the cog alarm at will, so they still had to work around it. On the nights Tosh need to get back in, Ianto made sure Jack was asleep. Tosh smiled to herself as she remembered Ianto's reference to 'chin wiping' – maybe they'd call it that from now on. Then Ianto made his way to the cog. Jack assumed the cog alarm signaled Ianto's departure. He had no reason to suspect that in reality it heralded Tosh's arrival. Sometimes Ianto slipped out as Tosh entered. But tonight he stayed. Tonight the physiotherapy regime began.

"Sorry I kept you waiting so long," Ianto apologized, leading the way into the basement.

"Is something wrong?" Tosh asked, concerned. She didn't like the look on Ianto's face. Frown lines marred the usually smooth forehead. He was unhappy. Still.

Ianto shook his head dismissively. "Nothing. Just…it wasn't easy to get away. He…I guess he wasn't tired." Ianto gave her a twisted smile, but Tosh wasn't fooled. She knew there was a problem. Ianto wouldn't look at her. Couldn't look at her. And after the way he'd sounded on the phone last night…and that lightning change of mood this morning….

"Tell me," Tosh insisted.

Ianto looked at her finally, a blush starting to creep across his face. "He…he…."

Tosh stopped in the corridor leading to the basement. "He didn't hurt you again, did he?" she asked anxiously.

Ianto shook his head again. "Lisa's waiting," he mumbled, moving towards the door.

Tosh planted her hands on her hips and glared. "I'm not going another step until you tell me," she threatened.

"He wanted to …..to…..snuggle!" Ianto burst out. "Wanted me to curl up with him and stay the night for God's sake."

Tosh blinked. Laughter would be a really bad response, but….oh his face. "Is that a bad thing?" she asked cautiously. Surely he wasn't objecting to be treated nicely, for once.

"Of course it is," Ianto spluttered. "I had to get away, didn't I?"

"I know," Tosh agreed. "But…"

"Leave it, Tosh. I'm OK."

"No you're not," Tosh said bluntly. "I know something's wrong. I've known since we talked on the phone yesterday. And you promised me we'd talk this through, remember?"

Ianto shook his head. Tosh watched his lower lip slide between his teeth, saw him bite down. Holding back words, or tears? I should have expected this, Tosh berated herself. I should have seen it coming. He's been so strong, he had to break sometime. And if this was it, she was going to help. Somehow. She'd find the right thing to say. He'd done it for her.

"Something's eating at you," Tosh persisted. "And if I can see it, do you think Lisa can't?"

They might not have been the right words. Maybe there were no right words. But they opened the floodgates. Ianto's pain poured out in a torrent of words.

"I want this to be over, Tosh," Ianto burst out. "I'm hurting everyone."

"No you're not," Tosh soothed, pulling him into her arms.

"I'm betraying Lisa. I'm cheating on her, Tosh. I can't lie to myself any more. I love her and I'm…I'm _screwing _someone else. Someone I don't even like."

But you do like him, Tosh realized suddenly. And it's tearing you apart.

Like a key turning in a lock, her mind opened, letting in and accepting possibilities she'd rejected for weeks. In that sudden rush of understanding, Tosh was glad she'd had that awkward talk with Lisa. She'd be in shock otherwise. But she could understand so much better now. Ianto wanted to hate what he was doing with Jack and on some level he didn't. Well, Tosh could understand that. It was jus the reverse, she thought, of what had happened to her. She'd _started out_ thinking she liked that guard and it was only once she'd realized he was using her that she'd begun to hate him. Ianto had started out using Jack, and he was beginning to realize he didn't hate him after all. And it was destroying him.

"I want to stop," Ianto said, speech muffled into her shoulder. "I want to get away from Jack."

"Soon, sweetheart, it'll be over soon. We're getting closer all the time."

"And I hate that I dragged you into it," Ianto continued, the words coming out between sobs.

"I volunteered, remember? And I wouldn't change a thing." But she didn't even know if he could hear her.

Ianto's breath was ragged. "And I even hate lying to Jack, now. He…He….and Oh Tosh, that's the worst thing. I don't want to start _liking _him.

Tosh was crying now, too. "We'll free you both, Ianto. We will. Trust me."

**Tell me if this was really bad and I'll fix! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello again and thank you for continuing to read this. This chapter follows on directly from the previous one. It was meant to be included in chapter 14 but it wasn't ready...I think it is fit to read now & hope you do too!**

The italics indicate Lisa's thoughts.

_They always forget how well I can hear. I told Toshiko. But she forgot. She wanted to forget. Wanted me to forget. I do not forget anything, now. But I let her think so. Because she wanted to. Small reward for her help. She has made me stronger._

_I want…that is wrong, I should not want. But my emotional inhibitor is faulty. Sometimes I want. Sometimes I feel. Sometimes I remember. Can Toshiko fix that? Would she?_

_I hear everything. I hear Ianto crying outside my door. Jack, he says through his tears. Crying is not good. Crying means sad, means hurt. I remember that. Jack made Ianto cry. Again. Jack. The Boss. I feel – hate. He will be deleted. He has no place in the new world. My world. With Ianto. My Ianto. We will be one. We will be perfect. _

_Maybe we will keep Toshiko, too._

-XXX-

Tosh pulled Ianto's handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then gave into an impulse and wiped Ianto's eyes, too. A big sister tending to her baby brother. It made him smile. Not a very good smile, but a start.

"Give me that," he ordered, grabbing for the hanky.

"Blow," she persisted, all mock severity, putting the hanky to his nose.

He snatched the hanky away and laughed. And blew his own nose.

"Better now?" Tosh asked. Exactly as he'd asked her. Hoping she'd helped him as much as he'd helped her.

"Better," he agreed. "How did I do this without you?"

Tosh considered it. "Badly?" she suggested.

They were still laughing together as they entered Lisa's chamber.

"Sorry we're late, sweetheart," Ianto apologized, ducking down for a kiss.

"Doesn't matter," Lisa answered brightly. "I was asleep, I think. Are we starting my exercises tonight?"

"We certainly are," Tosh answered. "Are you ready?"

It started well. They had a plan. Start with simple things and work up. Strangely enough, the implants in Lisa's limbs seemed to be maintaining her muscle tone. Electrical impulses, Tosh thought. Ianto didn't care how it worked, as long as it did. Lisa couldn't actually move her muscles, bound into the converter as they were, but she _was_ able to twitch them. So that was good.

There were items that would never make the list. Nutrition and elimination were completely cybernetic now. Maybe someone would know how to reverse it one day, but not yet. They told each other it didn't matter. Plenty of people survived with colostomy bags and dialysis, didn't they? And Lisa already liked it when they placed things in her mouth to be tasted, even if she couldn't bring herself to chew or swallow. One day the idea of eating wouldn't revolt Lisa as much as it did now. Until then, they had the nutrient solution.

It was her lungs they were most concerned about. Weak from under-use. They were afraid Lisa lacked the strength to inflate her lungs independently. So her first task was to try to beat the respirator.

They waited in silence, intensely aware of sounds which usually faded into the background. The ever-present drip of water became annoying. The hum of the generators grated on their ears. All three of them watched the monitors.

The metallic _beep_ as the respirator kicked in had all the impact of a siren. There was a flicker on the monitor screen, a new line dancing along just ahead of the regular path of the respirator. She'd done it. She'd taken over partway through the breath and finished the task of inflating her own lungs. In that second, freedom was close enough to touch. Who could blame them, really, if they reached for it too soon?

Their jubilation was no less intense because it was quiet. Couldn't risk Jack hearing, after all.

"Do it again, honey," Ianto encouraged, eyes shining with joy and something else. And she did, every breath. Taking over from the respirator a fraction earlier every time.

"Brilliant, Lisa," Tosh said with satisfaction, wiping her own eyes. "Your muscles are strong enough. Do you want to try doing it all by yourself?"

"No rush," Ianto said protectively.

Lisa laughed, the throaty laugh that was still all she could manage. "Bring it on," she urged.

Tosh knelt and keyed new settings into the respirator. It would still trigger if Lisa couldn't do it herself, but not soon enough to be comfortable. The hush returned. Expectant now.

"Ready?" Tosh asked.

Ianto took Lisa's hand in his. Lisa closed her eyes. "Ready," she whispered.

They waited. And waited. Lisa's eyes flew open, wide with panic, dark with anger at her body's betrayal. Her chest was still.

"Help her," Ianto begged, tears filling his eyes. Not happy ones, this time.

"Just a few seconds more," Tosh urged. "Try again, Lisa."

She tried. Her mouth worked, laboring to draw air into unresponsive lungs. The tendons in her neck strained with effort. But her lungs had forgotten how to start the process. The trigger was missing.

Lisa's whole body shuddered as the respirator finally kicked in. "I'll try again," she gasped, as soon as she could speak. Ianto forced a smile onto this face and squeezed her hand.

"You'll do it this time, sweetheart," he encouraged.

They waited. But it was the same. Over and over again. Until none of them could bear it anymore.

"Stop," Lisa gasped finally. Tosh looked at Ianto. He merely nodded. There were no words to say. Nothing that would make it right.

Tosh bent over the respirator and restored the usual settings. Within moments, Lisa fell into an exhausted sleep. It was hard for Tosh to raise her head, knowing what she'd see. Her friend, her best friend, with all the hope ripped out of him. He'd be sobbing on her shoulder for the second time tonight. And she'd be sobbing on his. Tosh fiddled with the settings, delaying the moment, until strong hands closed on her shoulders.

Tosh turned into the hug, tears spilling over and mingling with his, giving and receiving comfort. They ended up slumped against a damp wall, leaning against each other. Waiting for hope to return.

"We pushed her too soon, that's all," Tosh offered eventually.

Ianto forced a smile. "Of course. We'll keep trying. She'll get there."

"She will," Tosh agreed, with a confidence she didn't feel. But what else could they do?

Their eyes met, each seeking a spark of hope from the other. The hiss of the respirator measured eternity until Ianto voiced the question that lingered in the air between them.

"What if she doesn't?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry for the delay everyone! I got sidetracked. Hope this is worth the wait...  
**_The paragraphs in italics are Lisa's thoughts_

It was as though Fate had looked down and realized things weren't quite bad enough yet. Now they had to deal with a serial killer and a Christmas party. This obviously made the Rift feel neglected, because it decided to throw a tantrum. At this rate, they'd probably have a serial killer _at _the Christmas party.

The serial killer was loose in Cardiff. People being stabbed with an exotic weapon. Violent death. Suzie got plenty of opportunity to use her glove. She could bring the victims back for almost two minutes now. Long enough for them to understand, to reach a whole new plateau of terror. Suzie spent all her free time polishing the damned thing. Not that they had much free time, any of them.

Jack blamed the rift activity on Christmas. Jack blamed a lot of things on Christmas, after the debacle that had resulted in Harriet Jones being deposed. Tosh remembered _that_ Christmas through a haze of fear. Admittedly, she'd always been afraid, then, but _that_ Christmas had been terrifying.

London lost its innocence that Christmas. There was something in the skies that couldn't be dismissed as anything other than the alien vessel it so clearly was. Something with the power to draw people to the roofs, a step away from death. Jack was desperate to know what was going on, but in the long-running battle between the various arms of Torchwood, One asserted its jurisdiction over London, shutting Three out. Tosh remembered Jack losing his temper completely, yelling – no screaming – down the phone line. Arguing with someone called Yvonne. Owen and Suzie tried to lighten the atmosphere with cracks about Jack fighting with his girlfriend, but Tosh knew it was much more serious than that.

Then they'd seen that explosion on the news feeds, watched something burning in the sky. Saw snow falling that Jack warned them wasn't snow. Jack disappeared for days, no warning, no instructions, no contact. When he returned, he had that hand floating in its preservative and a face full of desolation. Suzie tried to find out where he'd been and ended up cleaning Weevil cells for a week. Owen muttered under his breath that Suzie should have known better than to ask. So Tosh didn't.

Shortly after, Torchwood Three severed connections with Torchwood One. Harriet Jones fell from power amid rumors of ill health and incompetence. When Torchwood One fell too, months afterwards, they speculated over whether it was all connected. But after what happened to Suzie, no one tried to ask Jack. The Weevils cells were dirty again, after all.

The provisional government approached Jack about renewing Torchwood's charter and the end result was the level of autonomy they now enjoyed. 'Outside the Government.'

So they didn't expect a peaceful Christmas. Tosh pretty much expected the festive season to blur past in a haze of activity, doing their bit for Peace on Earth.

So why were they in the conference room with Jack telling them to go home for Christmas? All of them. Even Ianto, who was supposed to be joining the meeting but was actually delivering coffee.

"All the action's in London at Christmas," Jack announced, when they'd all found seats. "So that's where I'll be. But I'm not going to drag the rest of you there unless I have to. Keep your phones on and try to have a normal Christmas."

"But don't make plans for Christmas Eve," Owen added. "Because Torchwood's coughing up for a Christmas do this year, and you're all gonna be there."

Jack reached out seemingly at random and closed his hand on Ianto's shoulder, freezing him in the act of creeping past with his hands full of empty mugs. "Including you," Jack said firmly. His hand stayed there until Ianto mumbled agreement.

"It won't be that bad," Tosh said reassuringly, somewhat later. Ianto had escaped into the Tourist booth and she'd followed as soon as she could sneak away. "Probably just a few bottles of champagne and takeaway at the Hub."

"And me around to clean up afterwards, I suppose," Ianto agreed.

"Everyone will be gone, though," Tosh said eagerly. "Even Jack. We'll be able to stay and spend Christmas with Lisa."

She was rewarded by a sparkle in Ianto's eyes brighter than any Christmas decoration. "I thought you'd have somewhere to go," he said. He gestured vaguely. "I mean, your family. Or friends."

Tosh fought back the urge to hug him. CCTV camera, of course. "You're my family, you twit. You _and _Lisa."

There were _chocolate _biscuits with her next coffee. And there were still a few weeks to go until Christmas. Tosh busied herself trying to find the perfect present, warmed by the prospect of having someone to celebrate with again. Two someones.

-XXX-

There were advantages to the Rift being so active. Tosh rarely had to run interference between Ianto and Jack these days. The Hub was hardly ever empty, which didn't leave Jack much opportunity for cornering his prey. If they weren't actually out on a mission, or working feverishly at their desks, chances were there'd be at least one of the team asleep on the ragged couch. Sometimes they'd just fall asleep _at_ their desk. They'd even found Owen curled up _under _the desk one morning. It caused no raised eyebrows to see Ianto in the Hub at unexpected hours, because between keeping them fed and supplied he was run off his feet, too. Tosh knew Ianto slept in Lisa's basement, when he got a chance to sleep, just to be near her. Physio was on hold, after that disastrous first attempt.

Tosh found herself spending more time with Owen – not by design, of course, not socially, nothing like that. But with the Rift so busy, sometimes the team had to split into pairs to cover everything, leaving Ianto at the Hub to co-ordinate both teams. Which he did with his usual efficiency, giving the lie to the theory that only women could multi-task.

When they'd worked in pairs before, Owen and Suzie had always worked together, and Jack had taken Tosh. It made perfect sense. Tosh was the one with the least field experience, so Jack kept an eye on her. Back then, of course, Suzie and Owen had been very pleased about the chance to be alone together. Tosh assumed their break up had led to the new arrangement.

Whenever she was with Owen, Tosh couldn't help remembering that night in the pub. When he'd reached for her, and she'd run away. But Owen never referred to it. And he was always polite, except when things got dangerous. Then he yelled at her. And she yelled back, something she'd never dared to do when she was paired with Jack. Tosh wasn't scared of Owen. In fact, Tosh was stunned to realize she wasn't scared of anyone, anymore. Well, except Jack, maybe. Sometimes. The only thing that really frightened her was the thought of Lisa being discovered. Beside that, everything else paled into insignificance.

She wondered sometimes whether Jack noticed her newfound confidence. Because Jack behaved oddly when he was alone with Tosh. Not like the early days, when he'd flirted with her. At least, she didn't _think_ he was flirting. They'd be talking about something work-related, like the Rift predictor program she was working on that Jack was so enthusiastic about. And then the cheerful mask would drop, just for an instant. It always ended the same way. He'd pay her a compliment, along the lines of "You're amazing, Tosh. And it's not surprising everyone can see that." The words were flirtatious but the tone wasn't. It left her puzzling over why a compliment from the boss could make her feel so uneasy. But after that, he'd vanish into his office, usually taking his prized 'hand in a jar' artifact with him. Or he'd just vanish out of the Hub altogether. Tosh didn't understand what was going on, but at least it gave Ianto a night off.

-XXX-

_He comes to me so seldom now. He's busy, with them. With Jack. With Tosh. He holds her. He can't hold me. He says he loves me, but he doesn't. He loves what I used to be. He doesn't want me. He wants flesh. Skin, bones, muscles, blood. I have that, but I am more than that, now._

_Sometimes it hurts, the metal. Sometimes I feel its sharp edges in my skin. The steel probes inside me, deeper than any lover. Part of me. He wants to take it away. I can't let him._

-XXX-

The Rift settled from hectic to merely busy. They started physio again, and it degenerated into a battle. Lisa resisted it. Much as she wanted to be free of the respirator, the effort of forcing her weak lungs to expand exhausted her. Even frightened her. It felt cruel to keep at it, but they had to, didn't they? Tosh hated it, hated seeing the fear in Lisa's eyes as she fought her own body to make it work by itself. Hated seeing the fear turn into anger as they urged her to try again. And again. They coaxed and prodded and bribed and bullied. Because they couldn't give up, and they didn't know what else to do. Ianto spent more time at it than Tosh did. Tosh watched the toll it was taking on her friend and worried. It wasn't surprising that Ianto's eyes were dull again, or that he was losing weight. He was losing hope.

Tosh arrived at the basement one night, carrying a canvas shopping bag.

"We've been working too hard," she announced.

Ianto smiled at the bottle of wine and the glasses that emerged from the bag. It might help, at that. If the two of them were more relaxed, maybe Lisa would settle too.

"Thanks Tosh," he said.

Lisa eyed the bottle. "You guys have fun," she said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "I'll be over here gasping for breath."

Tosh reached back into the bag. "This one's for you," she announced triumphantly, holding out an eyedropper. Lisa still couldn't swallow, but a few drops of liquid on her tongue would give her the taste without the risk of choking.

Lisa smiled; a brief stretch of the lips. "I'm not gonna get wasted from an eyedropper, am I?"

"We're not getting wasted either," Ianto said firmly. At least, he amended in his mind, not until after you're asleep. The idea of losing all his cares in the bottom of a bottle was immensely appealing. Temporary escape was still escape.

"There's more," Tosh announced, feeling more confident now. Candles. Incense. "It's stuffy down here," Tosh explained. "I thought these might freshen the air up a bit."

"Wine and candles," Ianto recited. "All we need is music. Hang on." And before long, Lisa's favorite songs played softly in the background.

It did help, for a while at least. Drinking, humming along with the music, it gave them a sense of normalcy. Until they convinced Lisa to try her breathing exercises again. At the first failed attempt, as the respirator filled her deprived lungs with oxygen, Lisa dissolved into a convulsive coughing fit.

"The smoke," she gasped eventually.

Tosh opened her mouth to protest. Lisa had been breathing in the incense for over half an hour now.

"Take it away," Ianto pleaded.

"But Ianto, it wasn't…."

"It's choking me," Lisa whimpered.

Ianto leaned over Lisa, stroking her forehead. "Just get rid of it, Tosh. Please."

"Make her leave," Lisa gasped. "Send her away."

"Lisa!" Ianto scolded.

"It's all right, I'll go." Tosh doused the flames, dumped everything in the nearest bin and fled, wondering what she'd done to turn Lisa against her.

Her phone rang before she even got to the cog door. Ianto, of course.

"I'm so sorry, Tosh," Ianto said tiredly. "I don't know what happened tonight."

"I was trying to help," Tosh said in a small voice. But she wondered what she'd been thinking. As if booze and candles would fix anything.

Ianto sighed. "I know. But Tosh…it's not going to be that easy, you know." He paused. Tosh could hear him drawing deep breaths. Lisa said something in the background.

"Come back, Cariad, please," Ianto said finally, his voice dull. "There's something we need to tell you."

Tosh couldn't remember afterwards how she got home that night. She sat on her couch, staring blankly at the bottle of pills on the coffee table, as if the reality of the Retcon bottle would make the evening more believable.

Ianto wanted her to cut her losses. Take the Retcon. Forget about Lisa. Forget about him. As if. Tosh didn't swear often, but her response to _that_ suggestion nearly ignited the walls of the basement.

"You've done everything you can, Tosh," Ianto pleaded. "All that's left is to take the fall with us. I can't let you do that. _We_ can't let you do that."

Tosh tried appealing to Lisa, but it didn't help.

"I want what he wants," Lisa said. "Now please, both of you just go and let me sleep."

The argument continued in the corridor.

"I'm not giving up on her," Tosh insisted. "Even if she has. Even if you have."

Ianto's face paled. "I haven't," he said.

"Then you've given up on me."

"But there's nothing more you can do."

"I'll think of something."

Only she hadn't. And it was just as well Tosh was getting along better with Owen, because Ianto started avoiding her. They hadn't really spoken to each other for days, unless it was to take up the threads of the argument. It got to the point where Tosh began eyeing her coffee with suspicion. Ianto caught the glance and every cup from then had a 'Retcon-free' label stuck on the base. An olive branch, of sorts. At least after that they started smiling at each other again, if not actually talking like they used to. But it was progress.

-XXX-

"Trouble in paradise," Owen suggested to Jack, across an alien corpse they were dissecting. With all the Rift activity, the autopsies had stacked up. Jack was helping clear the backlog. His assistance made the process faster. If messier. But mess was Teaboy's problem.

"She hasn't switched off her desk microphone for three days now," Jack agreed. He'd gotten curious a while ago about those whispered conversations over the archive trolley. Only to find the audio mysteriously missing for each incident. Clever, clever, Tosh. She thought of everything.

"Opens up all sorts of possibilities," Owen commented, beginning the autopsy with a confident swipe of the scalpel. "Not the least of which is, she's going to be a bit lonely now." Owen's eyes flicked to Jack briefly. "So is he, I suppose."

"I'm sure we'll think of some way to help," Jack answered, ducking away from the stench issuing from the cavity.

"Always there for a colleague in distress," Owen said cheerfully. "Speaking of which, put one of these masks on. Cuts out the smell a bit, not to mention the bugs."

They worked for a while in silence, considering possibilities that had nothing to do with the subject beneath their hands.

"I've got a theory," Owen offered. "If you're interested."

Jack quirked an eyebrow above the mask. "You're the doctor, Owen."

Owen waved the scalpel. "Not about this lot. That's obvious. It couldn't breathe our air, poor bugger."

"Theory about what, then?" Jack asked, as they began to close the incision.

"I reckon the lovely Tosh wants Teaboy to give you your marching orders," Owen announced, not even raising his eyes this time. "Or make a choice. Something like that."

Jack frowned. He didn't like the idea that Tosh knew what happened with Ianto when the Hub was empty. It wasn't anyone else's business. The uneasiness had nothing whatsoever to do with the prospect of Ianto choosing Tosh.

"She stays late every day now," Owen continued. "Keeps her eyes on him, too."

"We all do," Jack pointed out. Owen snickered.

"Stay late I mean," Jack added hastily.

Owen's mask twisted in line with the smirk beneath. "So you don't think he's been dodging you at all?"

"He's busy," Jack said shortly. "We all are." He bent over the body on the table. "Let's get this finished before the next alert."

There was nothing more said until the corpse was clanking its way down to the morgue.

"Christmas next week," Owen observed. "And I think it's worth reconsidering the old 'divide and conquer' strategy."

"Already divided," Jack commented.

"I could just go a conquer," Owen said, eyes on the instruments as he loaded the sterilizer.

Jack didn't answer. Owen glanced across and felt faintly uneasy at the light in Jack's eyes. At that moment, he could almost feel sorry for the Teaboy.

Then again, Tosh deserved better.

**OK all you wonderful people reading this. I've just noticed a major plothole. I forgot all about Tommy! Obviously Tosh met him (3 times I think) before the series started. So should I do a Tommy chapter or slink away and pretend it didn't happen?**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you so much to everyone who helped out with suggestions. I was staggered by the response and so very grateful. So thank you Alice OwO, PiratelfDair, emmalilley, brionyjae, stossle and RhianaStar****. (If I mentioned the ideas the A/N would be longer than the chapter) You will see your ideas over the next couple of chapters. I hope I do them justice.**

* * *

Ianto's head rose as the door opened, setting the bell above tinkling. He smiled, the relaxed smile that only one member of the team drew from him.

"Good morning, Tosh."

"Good morning, Ianto." She leaned across the tourism counter, seizing a pamphlet at random and pretending to study it. "How's Lisa?" she asked softly. She asked at some point every day, partly because she cared and partly so Ianto would know she still hadn't taken the Retcon.

"Same," Ianto answered, as he always did. Tosh's heart twisted at the defeat in his voice. "Still the same."

"Keep trying," Tosh urged.

"What else can I do?"

He'd lost hope. He really had. It was breaking her heart all over again. Tosh wished she could tell him what she was working on. But she couldn't risk offering hope until she was sure it wouldn't be snatched away.

-XXX-

"Bloody mess, wasn't it?" Owen said with disgust, brushing slime off his jeans.

Tosh giggled as Owen realized his hands were now full of slime and passed him a towel from the back of the SUV.

"Orange really isn't your colour," she teased. "And I did pass you a containment field."

"Yeah, yeah, it's my fault it exploded." He looked around somewhat nervously. "The other one was right behind me. Did you see where it went?"

Tosh held up a field generator. "Safe and sound."

"Got my back again," Owen smiled. "Thanks Toshiko."

Tosh raised her eyebrows. "Again?"

Owen grinned. "I can't believe you've forgotten the space pig. Right after you started. I had a hangover and I didn't want Jack knowing I was still too far over the limit to drive into London. You bailed me out."

Of course she remembered. Tosh remembered her every interaction with Owen with an almost painful clarity. But she didn't want _him_ to know that. Most of the time she didn't even want to acknowledge it herself.

Tosh nodded. "Good thing it really was a pig. I wouldn't have known what to do with it otherwise." But she recalled the sensation of Owen murmuring instructions into her earpiece. A concealed earpiece. It had sounded like he was standing beside her, whispering into her ear. Tosh wondered now if that whispering voice was the reason she'd started dreaming about him.

Owen gave himself a final swipe with the towel and squelched towards the driver's side of the SUV. His eyebrows rose as he noticed Tosh had already draped another towel over the seat.

"No reason why Ianto should have to wash slime off the leather," she said lightly, climbing into her own side.

Still hung up on him, Owen thought. Divide and conquer. He smiled across at her. "It's getting late, how about I drive you straight home?"

Something fluttered in Tosh's chest. Her imagination took flight. Owen taking her home, a slime-covered Owen who might need to clean up before he left…..her heart rate accelerated. She toyed with the containment field generator on her lap, wondering whether she was excited or afraid.

"I should get this back to the Hub," Tosh said. The power cell probably wouldn't last the night. That was all. It wasn't that she was afraid. Or excited.

And I bet she'll take it straight down to the archives, Owen thought sourly. What the hell's it gonna take to put her off him?

Inspiration struck Owen later that night. A diversion. An icebreaker. Who better than Frosty Boy to thaw the Ice Maiden?

-XXX-

"It's either an egg or an explosive," Tosh said. "No life signs. Filled with orange slime, considering how Owen ended up when he dropped the other one."

"Showing off for you, was he?" Ianto asked, a faint smile stretching his lips.

Tosh blushed. Ianto took the containment field from her and squeezed her hand in a silent apology. Tosh thought sadly she wouldn't have cared about the teasing if it had gotten a laugh out of Ianto. But even the image of a slime-covered Owen couldn't do that anymore.

"I'll put it straight into secure storage," Ianto decided. "Good night, Tosh."

"Good night, Ianto."

Tosh paused at the door of the archives. "Say Hi to Lisa for me."

"I will."

"Or you could let me say Hi myself," Tosh said hopefully, taking a tentative step back into the archives.

Ianto looked up, sadness etched into lines that shouldn't be visible on such a young face. "She doesn't want to see you, Tosh. I'm sorry." He shrugged. "Sometimes she doesn't even want to see me."

Tosh closed the distance between them and hugged him. It felt good. Odd how much she missed this, when such a short time ago she'd twitched away from hugging anyone. But her mood broke as she realized how much weight he'd lost since the last time she'd hugged him. She could feel the outline of his ribs.

"I can't bear to see you giving up like this," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Save yourself, Tosh," Ianto said, releasing her and backing away. If Lisa couldn't breathe by herself, she'd spend the rest of her life in the basement. And he'd be there with her. He missed Tosh desperately, but he couldn't allow her to live this half-life with them, not now there was no prospect of escape. "There's nothing more you can do to save her."

That's what you think, Tosh thought. At home that night, she broke through another firewall. She only wished she could share her triumph with Ianto. Nearly there. Nearly through. It was tempting to just keep going, but Tosh was too smart to rush. She spent the rest of the evening covering her tracks.

Dr Tanizaki mustn't know someone had found out about him until Tosh was sure they could trust him.

-XXX-

The Hub echoed to the sound of Owen and Suzie arguing. High above, Myfanwy screeched in annoyance.

"You're insane, Owen, we're too bloody busy."

"Yeah, well we want _him _sane, don't we? For whatever he's got to do. It's bad enough the poor sod's half-a-century out of time without sticking him with Groundhog Day as well."

Tosh hadn't been able to work out what they were arguing about, but she didn't really care. The argument was keeping them both occupied while she manipulated the monthly drug order. At least Ianto was still letting her help that much. Tosh let the bickering wash over her and checked the previous month's record to make sure she ordered a different type of painkiller, frowning as she realized Lisa had been on morphine for two months in a row.

She finished her task and closed all the screens hastily as the door to Jack's office opened. He must have gotten sick of the noise.

"Are you ready to start, Owen?" Jack asked briskly, cutting across the voices.

Owen smirked inside. Jack must have decided to go along with him on this. Probably for reasons of his own, but what the hell.

"I would be, if Madame Costello hadn't been countermanding your orders for the last half-hour," Owen answered, flicking a triumphant glance at Suzie.

Jack raised his eyebrows and fixed Suzie with a stare that not only silenced her but left her cowering in her chair. Well, as close to a cower as Suzie ever got.

"_Second_-in-command, Suzie," Jack reminded her, his voice dangerously soft.

"He didn't say it was your orders, Jack," Suzie protested. She shot a murderous glare at Owen, stopping him in mid-smirk. Her natural arrogance returned in a bound. "And even as your second I have the responsibility to tell you if I think we're making a mistake."

Jack sighed. "Let's take this to the conference room. You too, Toshiko." He raised his voice. "Ianto, coffee magic, please."

As Tosh made her way to the conference room, she considered once again how unsettling that ability of Jack's was. Ianto had spent the whole morning in the archives. How on earth did Jack know Ianto had emerged into the Hub only seconds before?

And exactly when did he start saying Please?

-XXX-

"All right, Owen, you first," Jack ordered.

"Frosty Boy," Owen began.

Something clicked inside Tosh's head and butterflies took off in her stomach.

"Tommy," she corrected. "His name is Tommy Brockless. If you're concerned enough to be arguing about him, Owen, you might do him the courtesy of remembering his name."

Owen grinned broadly. "Tommy," he acknowledged, "needs to come out of the freezer at least once a year, yeah? So we know he's fine to do whatever-the-hell it is he has to do whenever-the-hell he has to do it."

"Yes, but…" Suzie began.

"Let Owen finish," Jack snapped.

"You didn't snark at Toshiko for interrupting."

Jack stared her into silence. Tosh remembered why she was scared of Jack.

"Assuming," Owen continued, "we want him sane for his mysterious task, it might not be good for him to live the 23rd of February every year. Give him some variety, I thought. Expose him to different weather, stuff like that."

"Sounds like a reasonable point to me," Jack commented. Expose Tosh to another handsome admirer, more likely. He was annoyed Owen hadn't talked to him first, but it wouldn't do any harm. Might even help. And an unacknowledged corner of Jack's mind hummed with approval at anything that put more distance between Tosh and Ianto.

"Which was why I agreed to it in the first place," Jack added. "Toshiko, your thoughts?"

Tosh frowned, trying not to let her personal preferences interfere. She liked Tommy. She'd first met him soon after starting at Torchwood and she loved the way he'd treated her, so sweet and respectful. So different from Jack or Owen. As if she wasn't damaged, broken, _soiled._

Before Ianto, Tommy was the closest thing she'd had to a friend in Torchwood. Which was a sad reflection on her personal life. "It sounds like a good idea to me," she agreed. "It was sunny last time we revived him. And they're predicting snow today. Were you thinking today, Owen?"

"Or tomorrow," Owen agreed. "No time like the present."

"Now, Suzie, your objection?" Jack's eyes told Suzie it better be good.

"We've been so busy," Suzie explained, somewhat nervously. "Letting him out would tie up one of the team."

Jack smiled. "Toshiko? Would you like Tommy duty again?"

All eyes were on Tosh. Ianto smiled at her from behind Jack.

"Whatever you say, Jack," Tosh answered, eyes down so the rest of the team wouldn't see the sparkle she knew was there.

"But…." Suzie objected.

"If we get an alert," Jack said over the top of her, "You and Owen will handle it, Suzie."

Suzie and Owen glowered at each other.

"I should be here in case Tommy has problems," Owen protested. This wasn't what he'd been hoping for. He wanted Tommy to show Tosh there was more out there than the Teaboy, but he hadn't wanted the handsome soldier to have her all to himself. Owen didn't want Frosty Boy thawing the Ice Maiden behind his back.

"Fine," Jack said dismissively, "Suzie and I on the first call then, but if there's another, Tosh stays with Tommy and you take Ianto as back up."

Jack's hand extended and caught the mug slipping from Ianto's grasp before it hit the floor.

"Have a seat, Ianto," he ordered. "You seem to have become part of this discussion."

Ianto slipped into the chair next to Tosh. She found his hand under the table. It was trembling. Tosh fought down a surge of rage at Jack, shocked by its strength. He'd set the whole thing up just to get Ianto alone.

"What?" Owen yelped. "Teaboy out in the field, you've gotta be joking."

"He can't even shoot," Suzie said derisively.

At which point Tosh decided she was even angrier at Owen and Suzie for being so damned nasty about it.

Jack smiled, the smile he usually kept for errant Blowfish. "My original intention," he said, "was Owen and Suzie first, then I'd take Ianto if need be. And he _can _shoot, by the way, and quite well too. I've been training him the last few weeks."

Ianto's hand squeezed hers under the table. Tosh decided they'd be talking later, whether he liked it or not. Maybe he didn't want her around Lisa, but it hurt that he'd cut her out of his life so completely.

He should have warned me, Owen thought, glowering at Jack. Then he grinned. No doubt Jack was thinking the same thing. He was just lucky Jack had gone along with him. In fact, this notion of sending Owen out with the Teaboy was probably just payback. Owen decided to swallow his pride and agree to Jack's original suggestion. After all, this way they'd both get what they wanted. Sort of. The Divide bit, anyway. They could work on the Conquering later.

"He's all yours, Jack," Owen said, taking satisfaction in the crimson blush his comment extracted from the Teaboy. "We'll be right, won't we Suze?"

Tosh didn't understand why the hopeful expression on Suzie's face made her feel ill. She didn't want Owen for herself. She didn't. She had Ianto – and Tommy.

**Hope you liked! I want to watch the Tommy episode again before the next chapter, so forgive me if there's a delay.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Poor Tosh, I've been very mean to her, so in this chapter she finally gets a nice day. **

Tosh sat numbly on her bed, surveying the devastation of her usually neat bedroom. If only they'd been able to wake Tommy up right after that conference, this would never have happened. But the Rift had behaved with its usual instinct for disrupting anything Torchwood might have planned, and they'd spent the entire afternoon digging a possible explosive out of the quarry it landed in. With Tosh trying to work out how to defuse it without getting impaled on all the spines.

Hours later, Owen announced that it was the equivalent of a kidney-stone and he didn't even want to think about what might have passed it.

Tosh remembered how long she'd spent draped over the disgusting thing and had another shower, hoping her flat would mysteriously tidy itself while she was occupied.

No such luck, of course. She'd have to call for help. Time to swallow her pride and admit she couldn't do this alone. Tosh reached for her phone and dialed, fingers crossed, knowing there was only one person she could turn to, hoping he'd answer.

"Toshiko? Is something wrong?"

"I need help," Tosh pleaded, tears of frustration springing into her eyes.

"Anything, Cariad. Tell me."

"I don't know what to wear tomorrow!" Tosh wailed.

On the other end of the phone, Ianto laughed. Actually laughed. Tosh was glad she'd rung him, and not just so she'd look nice for Tommy.

-XXX-

Tosh looked around her bedroom again. Much better now. Ianto had instructed her to place all the rejects back in the wardrobe. And she was having so much fun she wasn't even worried about impressing Tommy any more.

She'd never worn those clothes together before. The long black skirt from the formal dinner suit she'd worn to her graduation paired with a multi-colored silk tunic top she normally wore with its matching flowing trousers.

The woman in the mirror smiled back at her. A classy-looking woman with sparkling eyes. Could have been any one of the women she saw making their way to work every day. That's what having a friend to be silly with does for me, Tosh realized. Ianto gives me normality. No, _reality_.

"I've got the webcam up," Ianto's voice called from the speaker. "Come and give me a twirl."

Tosh giggled. "I wasn't expecting this to turn into a fashion parade, Ianto." But she was glad it had. She'd missed him so much.

Tosh tensed as she heard another voice in the background. "Is that Lisa?" She'd assumed Ianto wouldn't answer the phone if Lisa was still awake.

"Of course. She wants to help, too." The tone of Ianto's voice warned her not to ask the questions burning on her tongue.

Tosh moved nervously into the view of the webcam. She could still remember Lisa screaming at her to leave. But Lisa smiled at her from the back of the screen and Tosh found herself smiling back.

"Oh, very nice," Ianto said approvingly. "You look lovely, Tosh."

"It's not very practical," Tosh said, "I still have to work tomorrow."

"Your only role tomorrow is making sure Tommy has a nice day, so you can forget practical for once."

Pause. Lisa's voice, asking something. A chuckle. "Lisa says if you're not doing cleavage you should do legs. Girl-speak I assume?"

"Tell her the skirt has a split to the knee," Tosh answered, her mind buzzing. Had Lisa forgiven her? Not that she had the slightest idea what Lisa was angry about in the first place.

"That's good, apparently. What am I saying? Of course it's good. You've got great legs." Laughter, from Ianto _and_ from Lisa. But Lisa said something else Tosh couldn't hear and Ianto's voice changed. "Apparently I shouldn't have noticed that. Apologies to both of you."

"Apology accepted," Tosh agreed lightly. "Shall we move on to shoes?"

"Sorry, Tosh. Lisa's tired. We'll have to let you do the shoes yourself. Good night." The screen blanked. He'd hung up.

Tosh hung her clothes away, pulled on her pyjamas, and waited. He'd ring back.

Ten minutes. Never mind, she was comfy and she wasn't at all tired. He'd call back.

Twenty minutes. Tosh made herself a cup of hot chocolate and took it back to bed. The phone was going to ring any second.

Thirty minutes. She snatched the phone up on the first ring.

"She's asleep," Ianto announced. "I'm in the archives now."

"What happened, Ianto?"

"Lisa got tired, that's all. And the pain meds don't seem to be working as well, I've had to up the dosage a bit."

"She's been on morphine for two months," Tosh said, feeling guilty about messing up the order. "She might be developing resistance. But I lodged the new order today, so you can change to oxycodene after it arrives tomorrow. That should help."

"Thanks, Tosh."

"She seemed fine earlier," Tosh said tentatively.

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. "She liked hearing about Tommy. Said it was nice to know she wasn't the only one locked away in Torchwood."

"Hadn't thought about it that way," Tosh said vaguely. Various scraps of memory settled into her brain, making sense of the past few weeks, making no sense at all. The hot chocolate was cold now, and it tasted bitter.

"Is she….She's not _jealous _of me, is she?" Unaccustomed anger rose in Tosh's heart. He'd pushed her away for this, for a sick woman's sick imaginings.

Ianto sighed. "Maybe. Sometimes. I don't know." He forced a laugh. "Good thing she doesn't know about Jack, huh?"

Lisa _did_ know about Jack. _He's shagging the boss so he won't find me. _She knew. And she still hadn't told Ianto.

Tosh immediately felt guilty for every unkind thought she'd had about Lisa. She _did_ care about him. She was protecting him the only way she could, protecting him from her own knowledge. Ianto was all Lisa had. She already had to share him with Jack. It wasn't fair to be angry with her if she didn't want to share him with Tosh, as well.

Tosh cast about for another topic of conversation. "So, um, firearms training?" Bad choice. She remembered Jack's very 'hands-on' instruction and a blush rose in her cheeks.

"He has an unconventional training technique," Ianto confirmed. "But believe it or not, he_ is_ managing to keep it just on the right side of professional. I'm actually learning something. He's congratulated me a few times on how well I keep my focus in the face of….um….distractions."

Tosh giggled. "I don't think a Weevil would present quite the same type of distractions."

Ianto chuckled too. "I hope not."

There was a comfortable silence, broken only by yawns. "Sorry, Cariad, I need to get some sleep."

"Me too," Tosh agreed, though she had other plans.

The silence changed. Wasn't comfortable anymore.

"Tosh," Ianto began. Tosh stiffened. She knew that tone.

"We've had a nice night, Ianto. Don't ruin it. I'm not taking the damned Retcon and you know it."

He sighed. "I'm just trying to keep you safe, Tosh."

"And I'm just as stubborn as you are."

"Truce then?"

"Sounds good." Tosh swallowed the last of her cold hot chocolate.

"Have fun with Tommy tomorrow."

"Thanks. I intend to."

"And wear heels," Ianto added. "They'll make your legs look even better."

Tosh smiled as she hung up the phone. A day off, she decided. That's what tomorrow will be. A day to forget. A day to be normal.

But for now….Tosh padded back to her terminal, wide awake again. She was so close to breaking into Dr Tanizaki's files. One more hour, then she could go to bed with a clear conscience.

Within the hour she'd cracked the password. You're right, Jack, Tosh thought, savoring her victory, I _am _good. She backed out and cleared all traces of her activity. Tomorrow she'd find out whether all this effort was worth it. Tomorrow night, after her day of normality.

Normality. With a handsome man who'd been frozen for nearly a century. Oh well. It _was _Torchwood, after all.

-XXX-

Ianto had already opened the tourism office when Tosh arrived the next morning. Her face burned as he greeted her with a whistle.

"Don't," she pleaded. "I've had workmen doing that all the way across the car park."

Ianto grinned. "I heard. Couldn't resist joining in. You look stunning, Tosh."

"Oh stop it," she answered. "Come in with me?"

Their eyes met as the memory hit. She'd said exactly the same thing her first day back after her mother's death. The day she'd first met Lisa. The day they'd become friends.

Tosh's eyes filled. "I miss you, Ianto."

Ianto remembered it as the day Tosh had given him hope. Hope that he'd now given back. There was a hollow thud as the let the flap in the counter drop back down.

"Miss you too, Cariad. But I'm not taking you down with us."

"We had a truce," Tosh reminded him firmly.

"So we did. But you should hurry if you want to be there when Tommy wakes. Owen's already taken him down to the med bay."

-XXX-

Owen's eyes widened appreciatively as Tosh made her way carefully down the stairs.

"I shall have to make allowances for elevated blood pressure," he commented.

"Pardon?" Tosh wasn't listening. Her eyes were drinking in the sight of the young man lying pale and still on the table.

Suzie sniffed. "Wouldn't know a compliment if it walked up and bit her."

"Play nice, children," Jack said, taking his position beside Tommy.

Tosh didn't hear any of it. Tommy was waking up.

Jack and Owen held Tommy's arms as he thrashed into wakefulness. But when his eyes focused, he smiled. "Toshiko?" he said.

Tosh took his hand. "Yes, Tommy, it's Toshiko."

Tommy squeezed her hand and smiled into her eyes.

The routine tests were over. Ianto arrived with a box of clothes for Tommy. Tosh watched as Ianto retreated back into the archives, waiting for the backward glance, the wink, the smile. Nothing. She couldn't help the tears that rushed to her eyes. They'd had so much fun last night and she'd thought their friendship was back on track. It made today's rejection worse.

Owen saw the tears and his gut contracted with something that should have been satisfaction but felt more like pain. Tosh was excited about Tommy. Teaboy was ignoring her. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it?

Tommy emerged from the bathroom, wearing dark trousers, with a pale shirt and a jacket. A warm coat was draped over his arm. Last year it'd been jeans. Tosh took some comfort from the fact that Ianto had selected clothes for Tommy that wouldn't make her feel overdressed. Reminding herself that Ianto was only trying to protect her didn't make her feel any better. But Tommy smiled at her again and her heart lifted.

"So Tommy," she said brightly, "What would you like to do today?"

Tommy smiled. "Everything?"

Suzie snickered. Tommy blushed. "Sorry Toshiko. I didn't mean….I'm sorry."

Tosh took his hand and stared at Suzie with annoyance. "I know you didn't, Tommy. But I'm afraid in this decade not everyone's as decent as you."

Owen led Suzie away before the girls got into a catfight. Tosh's reaction had shaken him. She'd never fired up in anyone's defense like that before. This wasn't going anything liked the way he'd planned. Frosty Boy was meant to be a distraction, not an obsession.

Jack returned to his office, pondering the fresh coffee waiting at his desk. Not the coffee itself, so much as the fact that Ianto had slipped it into his office while Jack was busy helping revive Tommy. Ignoring Tosh, Jack thought, but he's still avoiding me. That wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Jack savored the coffee as a vivid memory flashed across his mind. He saw again the agony in the Doctor's eyes as he watched Rose leave the Tardis on a date with Mickey. Sending the one he loved away with someone else because he thought it would make her happy. Another sip of coffee, inhaling the scent of it as he swallowed, wondering why that particular memory had intruded now. The century had turned, the Doctor would be back soon. That must be it. Christmas was only days away now. Torchwood deserted for the day, the team safe while he went to London to wait for the Doctor. Perhaps this time next week he'd be back on the Tardis, and terms like tomorrow or next week would become meaningless again. He watched Tosh and Tommy leave the hub, a smile tugging at his lips at the bright tone in Tosh's voice, at the way Owen's head turned to watch her leave, at the way Suzie's head turned to watch Owen. He put the mug to his lips again and realized the coffee was gone. He'd miss that coffee. The Doctor preferred tea.

-XXX-

Tosh shivered in the icy wind that hit them both as they entered the Plass, glad they'd stopped to wrap themselves in their coats. The skies above were heavy with the promised snow, but it wouldn't fall while the wind still played so roughly with the clouds. Tommy held her arm as they made their way to the railing and stared out at the angry sea, both lost in their thoughts.

"It was sunny last time I got out," Tommy commented.

"Well, it was nearly the end of winter, then," Tosh answered.

Tommy smiled sadly. "Yesterday to me."

Tosh bit her lip. "Owen thought it might do you good, seeing different seasons, instead of the same one over and over."

"Variety the spice of life, eh?" Tommy's mouth twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Such a life as it is, anyhow." Tosh watched his knuckles whiten as he clutched the rail. "I wish I knew what this is all _for_. What I'm supposed to do, I mean."

"At least you know you've got a purpose," Tosh answered.

They watched seagulls battle the wind.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Tommy asked finally, turning to face her.

Tosh looked at him, eyebrows lifting slightly. "You can ask," she said teasingly, "But it doesn't mean I'll answer."

Tommy looked back out at the ocean. His feet scuffed the ground as he shifted uneasily.

"It's none of my business, I suppose, but….Is that bloke your boyfriend?"

Tosh's head snapped around to face him. "Which bloke?"

"The one that brought my clothes. I saw the way you looked at him." Tommy's hands tightened on the rails again. "I saw the way he ignored you, and I…I…"

Tosh placed her hand gently over Tommy's. "He's my friend, that's all. A good friend. We've been, um, having a bit of a disagreement lately." She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened. "I just miss him, that's all."

Fat drops of rain began to splash down. "Let's get out of this," Tommy suggested. Hand in hand, they ran for the shelter of a cafe. Her heels slipped on the wet paving, and Tommy's strong arms caught her. He's so young, Tosh thought, as she smiled her thanks. But somehow she felt safe with him.

"So," Tommy said, as he slid into the booth beside her. "What's the disagreement about?"

"It's complicated," Tosh answered. She felt safe with Ianto, too. But in such a very different way. Ianto didn't make her heart beat this quickly, for instance.

"He's not your boyfriend," Tommy said thoughtfully. "But, maybe you want him to be, is that it?" And he shifted carefully away from her on the seat.

Owen's face drifted unbidden through Tosh's mind. She shook her head and focused on her answer, debating how much she could safely say. "It's not like that at all, Ianto and I. It's…"

"Complicated," Tommy finished.

"Well, it is," Tosh answered.

Tommy grinned at her. "Come on, Toshiko, it's not like I can gossip about you to your friends, is it? Not from the freezer!" He extended his hand and carefully pushed her mouth closed. "You'll catch flies," he teased.

Two young men, two young men she cared about so very much. So alike, so different. Maybe Tommy could help her understand Ianto. Worth a try, anyway.

"Ianto has a girlfriend," Tosh said, weighing each word before letting it escape. "She's um….she's sick….Ianto spends all his free time looking after her, and he doesn't…um….doesn't want the others to know because he doesn't want sympathy."

"Or interference," Tommy added shrewdly. "Hasn't got enough time with her so he doesn't want to share her."

Tosh nodded. And Lisa doesn't want to share him either, she thought. Fair enough, I suppose. I don't want to share Tommy with the others_._

"I can understand that," Tommy said softly. Tosh shivered pleasantly as his arm crept across the back of her seat, his sleeve brushing against her shoulders.

"I found out and I've been trying to help," Tosh continued, paying less attention to her words now, distracted by the arm not-quite-touching the back of her neck.

"But now his girlfriend's jealous of me."

"She's got good reason," Tommy said softly. The arm settled more firmly around her.

Tosh didn't think about Ianto, or Lisa, or Torchwood, for the rest of the day. Her day off. Her day of normality. Her day of peace.

-XXX-

Darkness fell along with the promised snow.

The dawdled on their way back to the Hub. Owen had called twice already.

Tommy turned his face up, laughing at the icy brush of the snowflakes against his cheek.

"I'm glad the snow fell in time for you to see it," Tosh said, her breath catching as she watched the flakes melt on his skin.

"I guess it wasn't such a bad idea, changing the day on me," he admitted. "Thanks for today."

"My pleasure," Tosh answered. They were at the Hub now. Couldn't put it off any longer.

Tommy's hand tightened on hers as the needle pierced his vein. "See you next year," he murmured.

"It's a date," Tosh promised.

**There wasn't much 'relaxed' Tommy in the episode to work from so I hope I got him right. Thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for the awesome response to the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one.  
**_Italics indicate Lisa's thoughts._

The sign on the tourist information office read 'Open.' Tosh smiled. Life wasn't always good, but she'd had a lovely day yesterday, and here was a good start to the morning. Whatever other excuses he might have ready, Tosh knew Ianto had opened up early so he could her when she came in. It was one of their standard ploys. Perhaps she had to wait another year to get Tommy back, but she wasn't going another day without her best friend. So there. Now she just had to convince him.

"You're making a habit of opening up early," Tosh commented. "Two days in a row."

Ianto smiled. "Waiting to intercept the drugs order," he answered.

Tosh wrinkled her nose at him. His smile morphed into a grin.

"And I wanted to know how your day went yesterday," he confessed. "But given the look on your face, I'm guessing – good?"

"Better than good," Tosh answered, propping her elbows on the counter and leaning forward. "He's…" She broke off. Ianto laughed softly at the dreamy expression on her face.

"Miss Sato, have you gone and gotten a crush?"

"Quite possibly," Tosh answered, without so much as a blush. "And he's smart too."

"Naturally," Ianto agreed, biting into the inside of his cheek. He wasn't going to ruin this for Tosh by laughing at her.

She saw the movement and felt a rush of affection for her young friend. Anyone else would have laughed themselves silly. Told her to find someone available to fall for. Ianto understood that only Tommy's very _un_available state made it safe for Tosh to fall for him. Only Ianto understood_ her_.

Tosh leaned closer, angling her head away from the CCTV camera. "Tommy gave me a bit of an insight into isolation, yesterday."

"Really?" She watched the muscles along Ianto's jaw tighten, a waterfall flowing uphill, until his forehead creased with the tension. Ready to start the argument again. But Tosh wasn't going to argue today.

"Really," she confirmed. "So I think I understand why Lisa doesn't want to see me. And I won't nag you about it anymore. Lisa will ask for me when she's ready. And I'll be there."

"That's…good." It was almost funny, the suspicious look on his face. Tosh forged ahead before he recovered from having his standard objections rendered useless.

"So how is she? And I want a real answer today, thanks."

This time Tosh watched every muscle collapse in defeat.

"In pain. Fighting the physio. Telling me I should leave when I don't want to, begging me to stay when it's time to go to work. Real enough for you?" The inner door to the Hub swung open as Ianto thumped the release button.

Tosh flinched. But she'd asked for it, after all.

"Don't give up, Ianto," she said intensely. "I haven't. And I won't let you." And with a move that was totally uncharacteristic and absurdly satisfying, she leaned further over the counter, planted a kiss on his cheek, and darted through the door.

In the Hub, Owen and Jack were getting an eyeful of the CCTV.

"Was that break up, or make up, do you reckon?"

"No idea," Jack admitted. And he had no idea why he cared, either.

"Christmas Eve tomorrow," Owen commented. "Guess we'll find out then. Get 'em both plastered and see what they do."

The cog alarm shrieked. Jack retreated to his office, leaving Owen to blank the CCTV display before Tosh caught him.

Christmas Eve tomorrow. Christmas drinks with his team. Farewell drinks. Not that he'd tell them.

Two days until Christmas. It was wrong, so wrong to be hoping for another Christmas disaster. But the Doctor would head it off, whatever it was, and Jack would be there to help him. Torchwood could get along without Jack. They were a fine team, the best he'd had. They'd manage. Suzie would take over his office before the rest of them even realized he wasn't coming back.

His morning coffee arrived. Blue striped mug. Red striped tie.

Jack sipped his coffee and watched the elusive Welshman walk away from him – again. Nice view though.

Two days until Ianto Jones became a mere memory.

A lot could happen in two days.

-XXX-

Ianto paused outside the basement, hesitant to enter the place that used to be his sanctuary. No reason for hesitation beyond his own weakness. He was perfectly safe from the threat of discovery tonight.

Another ridiculously busy day had ended with another murder. Everyone was exhausted. They'd all gone to the scene of the murder in the interests of getting it done faster so they could all go home and collapse.

In a rare fit of consideration, Jack ordered them to take their own cars and go straight home from the scene. Ianto stayed at the Hub, of course, clearing the heavy pre-Christmas traffic, but Jack told him to leave once they'd arrived at the scene. And Jack had no reason to believe he'd disobeyed, even if he checked the GPS. The echo device Tosh had planted would make sure of that.

He used to wish for this. An uninterrupted night with Lisa, with no fear of discovery. But it was so hard to walk through that door now and his reluctance sickened him. Lisa was in there, she needed him. And here he was, coward that he was, shivering outside her door. Trying to get his breathing under control, trying to calm himself for the battle ahead. He'd been fighting for her life for so long and it had all been worth it – when she'd been fighting too. When there'd been more good days than bad. But now, good days were a rarity. She'd given up. He had to do it alone.

At least he'd been strong enough to spare Tosh. She didn't know how bad Lisa had become. He let Tosh talk to Lisa on the rare good days, and shielded her from the rest. Ianto woke every morning hoping Tosh had finally taken that Retcon and praying to the God of his childhood that she hadn't.

Ianto pasted a smile onto his face. He was good at fake smiles. He'd had plenty of practice with Jack. He shoved away the thought of how much easier it was to smile for Jack now, how much harder to smile for Lisa. Ianto inhaled deeply and pushed the door open.

Odd how he'd begun noticing the smell of this room, recently. Oil. Sweat. Fear. Metal. Did metal smell, or was that the scent of blood? He remembered the sweet smell of the incense Tosh had brought, on that last night of hope.

Lisa's eyes snapped open. "Ianto," she said. Her voice echoed off the damp walls.

"Yes, sweetheart, it's me." He kissed her cheek. They were back to cheek kisses. Lisa claimed she needed all her breath for the exercises. The exercises she refused to do. He'd saved his kisses for her and she didn't want them.

Ianto wiped the sweat from her forehead. "How's the pain, honey?"

"The morphine works better," Lisa said, a petulant note in her voice. "Why can't I keep having that? Why do you change it so often?"

Ianto sighed. It wasn't Lisa's fault she forgot.

"We're afraid you'll become addicted, Lisa," he explained patiently, as he had so many times before.

"It hurts," Lisa announced. "This stuff isn't strong enough. Give me more."

"Of course, love." He was working her body harder, making her fight the machines. It was understandable that she'd be in more pain. Ianto keyed the manual override on the drug delivery system.

Lisa blinked slowly as the drug flowed into her veins. "That's better," she murmured.

Ianto stripped off his jacket and bent to the respirator controls. "Let's get started," he said, injecting cheer into his voice when all he felt was apprehension.

"Not again, Ianto." It was despair in her voice, Ianto told himself, straightening up with a groan he tried to muffle. Not anger.

"It's been nearly a week since the last session, Lisa. You have to keep trying sweetheart. Please."

"I do try. I can't do it. I can't." The volume of her voice rose with each word. For once, Ianto didn't try to hush her. The Hub was empty. Let her yell, if it helped. He stroked her forehead, her hand, the places on her arms that weren't covered by metal. Tried to take comfort in the firm muscles beneath. She was strong. She could do it. Just a rough patch. They'd get through it. They had to.

Ianto bent to the controls again. Coaxing wouldn't work. It never did any more. He had to be strong when she couldn't.

"We'll never get out of here if you don't," he said firmly, ordering the tears to stay behind his eyes. How had he gotten to the point of threatening the woman he loved?

Lisa snapped. Her voice rose to a shriek. "We'll never get out of here anyway. I'll die here. You might as well just kill me now. Turn everything off and leave."

"How can you say that, Lisa? I love you. I'd never leave you."

"Then help me."

Sobs tore from Ianto's throat. "I'm trying. I don't know what else to do."

"Of course you don't." Lisa spat. "You never did."

_Weak. He's so weak. Why can't he see? I can't trust this weak human body. I trust the metal, the rhythm of the machine. It's part of me now, the stronger part, and the better part. He'll understand, one day. When we're together again._

How is it, Ianto wondered, that she's got the strength to spit venom at me, but not enough to breathe? And he was ashamed of himself for letting the thought in.

"Why isn't Tosh here?" Lisa demanded.

He couldn't help it; he was getting angry himself, now. "Because you sent her away. And I'm not dragging her back to listen to this. She's done all she can for you."

_I've made him angry. I must be more careful. He doesn't understand yet._

"Can't you get someone else, then? Someone better. Someone smarter."

It's the pain, he told himself. She's afraid. It's the drugs talking, not Lisa. Lisa wouldn't talk to me like this. She loves me. I love her.

"You don't understand, Lisa. We can't tell anyone else. They'll…."

"What will they do, Ianto? Your friends. Your boss. Jack. What would he do?"

She was screaming. How did she have enough breath for screaming? Her screams bounced off the wall and wrapped around him, choking him, crushing him.

Ianto's knees gave way. He sank to the cold floor, wishing he could just keep sinking, just vanish into the icy darkness beneath. Vanish before he had to answer. But he had to answer. She wouldn't stop screaming until he did.

"He'd kill you," Ianto whispered. "Tosh said he'd kill you."

Silence. Even the echoes stopped. Ianto looked up, afraid of what he'd see. But all he saw was the anger dying out of Lisa's eyes. Her voice softened. Lisa's voice again, just like he remembered. His arms crept up to hold what was left of her.

"You won't let him, will you Ianto? You won't let him kill me."

"Of course not, sweetheart. I'd die first, you know that."

"I don't want you to do that, silly boy." His Lisa. His love. Her voice shaking now with…anger? Fear? Something else?

"He'd only kill me straight after," she continued. "And I'd let him, if he'd already gotten you."

"Don't talk like that, Lisa. Please don't." He couldn't bear it. He preferred the anger.

"No," Lisa said thoughtfully. "I don't want it to happen like that."

"Of course not, sweetheart. It won't happen. I won't let it."

Lisa regarded him with eyes like chocolate. Dark chocolate. Melting.

"I'd rather it was you, Ianto. If I have to die, let it be you. Kill me before they find me."

The venom couldn't break him, but that did. His head dropped onto her stomach. The tears he'd held back for so long burned their way out of his eyes.

_I hurt him. I saw his face crumple and I felt - nothing. He isn't mine any more._

Warm skin beneath his cheek and cold metal against his neck. Hot tears on her skin. He wondered if she could even feel them.

_So weak. I've made him cry. I can make him do anything. Let him cry. Let him feel despair. He __**can**__ cry. I can't. I don't want to. I don't want to cry. I don't want to feel._

Tears ran down her flesh and pooled at the edge of the metal. Pooled, overflowed, a waterfall of tears. Dripping onto the floor. What did it matter? A bit more moisture wouldn't make any difference down here. The basement was always damp anyway.

_Jack would kill me. I thought so. I'll know him. I'll know his stench. It's all over Ianto, in his hair, in his clothes, on his skin. In his pores. My Ianto, soiled by his touch, tainted with his scent. _

_Maybe the scent will fade when Jack dies. Then Ianto will be mine again. Not his. Mine._

_Jack can't kill me if I kill him first._

-XXX-

Lisa was asleep again, or pretending to be, after another disastrous attempt at physio. Ianto needed to get away. Escape. Feel the air on his face. Away from the smell of blood and sweat and oil and pain.

The Hub was dark and silent. Ianto stumbled blindly towards the door. The sound of the cog alarm told him he was nearly out. The night air would feel so good, so clean.

"Ianto? Is that you?" Lights flickered on across the Hub. Every muscle in his body stiffened in shock. There shouldn't be anyone here. They were going straight home from the scene of the murder.

How could he have been so stupid as to forget that, for one of team, this _was _home?

Or had he wanted to forget? Did some sick part of him _want _Jack to find him?

He could hear Jack's footsteps, coming closer, while he wondered how far he'd get if he just _ran._

Jack's hands gripped his shoulders, holding him still. Holding him upright. Holding him. So long since anyone held him. Except Tosh, and he'd pushed her away.

"Sorry Sir, did I wake you?" Ianto hoped his voice sounded normal. He couldn't tell. But if he could just behave normally, just for a few more minutes, maybe he could bluff his way through this. Bluff his way out into the clean night air; let the scent of the sea scour away the reek of the basement.

"You didn't wake me. I only just got back." Jack frowned. His voice sharpened. "I thought you'd gone home. Your car's at your flat." Oh shit, Jack thought, cursing his own idiocy. Now he'll know I've checked. He'll know I looked for him. He'll know.

He's checked the GPS, Ianto thought. Oh shit. He shook his head violently, trying to get his mind working again. Had to think of an excuse. Couldn't have Jack find his car. Tosh would be in so much trouble for planting that echo device.

"I…um….flat battery," Ianto mumbled, seizing on the first excuse that came to mind. "Came in on the bus." He looked at Jack searchingly, wondering if he'd believe it. Was there even a bus stop near his flat?

He knows, Jack thought, meeting that searching blue gaze with his own. But the best form of defense is attack.

"What _are_ you still doing here, Ianto? I told you to go home over an hour ago."

Jack watched the blue eyes drop in confusion, watched the blush creep across those pale cheeks. Well, well, well.

A lazy smile tugged at the corners of Jack's mouth. He'd have to buy Owen a drink for this, given how disparaging he'd been about the doctor's latest 'divide and conquer' plan. But Tosh had spent all of yesterday with a handsome soldier and Ianto was here at the Hub, alone. Waiting. _Thank you Dr Harper._

"Why didn't you go home, Ianto?" It was evident Jack had already worked out his own answer - at least the one he wanted to hear. His voice held a purr of satisfaction. Something coiled in Ianto's stomach, something hot and tight that made it harder to breathe – nausea, perhaps, because there wasn't anything else it could be, was there?

"I…ah…I was in the archives, Sir." _Where else would I be, Sir? Oh yeah, in the basement with my girlfriend, telling her you'd kill her if you got the chance._

"What exactly were you doing in the archives this late at night?" Purring. A cat playing with a mouse.

Ianto's thoughts scurried around his brain, trying to come up with a lie he'd believe. Filing? They were so far behind. But that wasn't good enough. All he'd have to do was look. He'd see the files stacked up to the ceiling.

A lie he'd believe. There was one lie he always believed. Sometimes Ianto believed it himself. Even though this was the first time he'd actually said it.

"I was waiting for you, Sir."

-XXX-

Ianto stumbled through the cog door and ran, from Jack, from Lisa, from Torchwood. From himself.

The air did feel clean. Ianto sucked the sweetness of it into his lungs and wondered if he'd ever feel clean again. He staggered to a stop against the railing that edged te bay, watching the moonlight sparkle on the waves. It would be so easy to just drop into the water, let it close over his head, wash everything away, and leave everything behind.

Leave Lisa to starve in the basement. He couldn't do it. She'd asked him to kill her. He couldn't do that either. It must have started raining, because his cheeks were damp again.

Tosh wouldn't let Lisa starve. Tosh wanted to help but he wouldn't let her.

Ianto dragged himself away from the sea and towards his car. His car was underground, where Jack wouldn't find it. Jack thought his car was at his flat. Jack was asleep, sated, scratched, snoring. In his mind's eye Ianto could see him, just as he'd left him. Lying on his stomach, face buried in his pillow, his back bearing the marks of their violence, crammed into one side of the tiny bed. Leaving room for another body to lie beside him, the one that had slid out from under the arm now stretched possessively across empty sheets. Just a body, Ianto reminded himself, because it was easier to think of that than to explore the ramifications of falling asleep in Jack's bed, in Jack's arms. A body. That's all I am. A body that walks and talks and makes coffee and _serves the boss _and dies a little bit more every day. Just a body. That's all I am to all of them – except Tosh.

-XXX-

Toshiko was a quiet person. Always had been. But tonight whoops of triumph tore from her throat. She gotten into Dr Tanizaki's files and they were absolutely everything she'd hoped for. She recognized every piece of his secret revolutionary life support system. A converter. He had a converter. He'd put it together from parts he'd scavenged across the world, pieces the Void had left behind and Torchwood had missed or ignored. Illegal, of course. Completely illegal. But there were people out there desperate enough to trust him with their loved ones - and he'd put them into his converter and let it cure them _and gotten them out again. _

Tears of joy poured down Tosh's face. She had to tell Ianto. Oh how she wished she could see his face, see the hope flood back into him. But it would be so selfish to make him wait until tomorrow just so she could see that. No, she'd call him now. He was probably asleep at the Hub beside Lisa, but for once Tosh didn't care if the phone ringing woke Lisa up. Let her hear this too.

"Ianto?"

"Tosh?"

"Did I wake you?" How strange his voice sounded. Never mind, she was about to change all that.

"No, I'm in the car." He cleared his throat. "Going home."

"Oh." That wasn't good. He didn't usually leave Lisa alone. But still…whatever it was, she was about to make it all better.

"Would you come here instead, Ianto? Please? There's something I need to show you."

Pause. "I'm parked under your building."

Tosh blinked. "Why didn't you come up?"

"Didn't want to wake you." He laughed uneasily. "Trouble is, I'd already gotten here by the time I thought of that. But I didn't want to go home." Home. What a joke. He didn't have a home. Just a flat with things in it. And a mattress on the floor of a damp basement.

"So what were you planning to do, Ianto? Sleep in my car park?"

"Hadn't worked it out yet, but probably. A bit stalkerish, huh?"

"Totally. Now get up here."

He looked terrible. Her discovery could wait. He was in no state to appreciate it anyway.

"Ianto, what happened?"

Ianto tried to answer her. He really did. But the tears had waited for a long time and they weren't finished with him yet.

**Aplogies if this chapter was too 'Janto-ish' but it was all a ploy to drive him back to Tosh, really. That's my justification and I'm sticking to it. I will give Tosh all her Christmas wishes in the next chapter or so.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Ianto needed some TLC after the last chapter. So this is some sisterly Tosh/Ianto fluff. ****This chapter was supposed to include Christmas but it got too long! So the Christmas drinks (yes and that kiss) will be up soon - I hope.**

* * *

Ianto remembered crying his first broken heart out onto his sister's shoulder. Just like this. And just like that time, it helped. Didn't fix anything. But it helped. Garbled words poured from his mouth while tears poured from his eyes. He didn't really know what he was saying and he doubted Tosh did either, since he suspected some of it was coming out in Welsh. The words didn't matter, they were just a conduit for the pain. And the tears let the words out. And Tosh made it all bearable. How could he ever have thought he could do this without her?

Tosh tried to make sense of the outpouring but it wasn't really what her role was, not yet. Besides which, the parts she _could_ piece together scared the hell out of her, and she was afraid to show any reaction because what if she said or did the wrong thing? He was so fragile at the moment, a fragility that had nothing to do with the lack of weight in her arms, and everything to do with the way his head pressed into her shoulder, hiding from everything, hiding even from her.

Tosh had her own feelings to battle with too. She was so _angry. _At whatever – or whoever – had brought him to this. Angry with Ianto for pushing her away all this time. Angry that it had taken _this _for him to turn to her. And beneath the anger, a guilty triumph that he _had _turned to her when things got too bad to bear alone. And really, she needed to sort herself out before she said anything to Ianto. So between fear and anger and guilt and hesitation she did exactly the right thing and held her friend tightly, letting him just _be,_ making soothing noises that weren't words, exactly, just reminders that she was there.

When the tears ran out, Tosh's practical side took over. She coaxed Ianto into the shower, because his insistence he'd never be clean again had freaked her out somewhat. Not to mention that rant about the blood under his fingernails. While the shower ran she rummaged through her wardrobe for something that would fit him, emerging with her Mickey Mouse nightshirt and the yoga pants she'd bought with the intention of taking classes, back when she was still clinging to the illusion that she had a life of her own. She shoved the clothes through the bathroom door with her eyes clamped shut, her attempt at modesty earning an amused sound that was a close to a laugh as she'd expect, given the situation.

The next thing was food, Tosh decided. Something quick, something nourishing. After a disheartening search through her fridge – when _was _the last time she'd brought groceries? - she pulled out her wok and threw in a random mixture of meat and vegetables that would have made her mother cringe.

Between the patter of the shower and the sizzle of the wok, her flat sounded nicely domestic. Tosh found herself humming as she cooked. Terribly domestic.

"You've got an actual wok," Ianto commented. He felt hungry for the first time in weeks and the scent of food had drawn him from the bathroom. His stomach growled loudly enough to make Tosh smile, until she had a good look at him.

It should have made her laugh, the sight of the always-immaculate Ianto Jones crammed into ill-fitting clothes, his broad shoulders contorting Mickey Mouse's ears. It _would _have made her laugh, except that the garment pulling so tightly across his shoulders hung slackly about his waist. He was _far_ too thin. Tosh's earlier anger suddenly found a target, justified or not. Jack saw those bare ribs regularly. Why hadn't he said something, done something? Why didn't he _care_? The food in the wok suddenly looked inadequate for the task ahead of it. Tosh burrowed in her cupboard and found some noodles.

"I'm being a nuisance," Ianto said. "I should go."

Tosh wasn't overly worried. He wouldn't leave dressed like that, and she'd already hidden his suit. Tosh could be sneaky when she wanted to.

"You're not going anywhere, yet," she told Ianto firmly. "I'm going to get a decent meal into you," pausing to stare doubtfully at the mass in her wok, "a balanced one, anyway," she corrected. "Then you're going to tell me calmly what you were raving about before. Then_ I'm_ going to talk. Then _you're_ going to sleep. Any questions?"

Ianto blinked, his eyes coming sharply into focus. "I didn't know you were this bossy."

Tosh grinned. Nor did she, come to think of it. Frustrated maternal instincts, perhaps. "So now you do. Sit. Eat."

They ate sitting at an actual dining table, out of bowls that weren't even takeaway containers. Tosh itched to tell him what she'd found out, but instinct – possibly that lurking maternal one – told her to wait. Ianto was still too tense, if the way he was playing with his empty bowl was anything to go by. Even good news might be too much for him to take at the moment. Tosh allowed him to fret in silence, taking comfort from the fact that the bowl _was_ empty. At least he'd eaten.

When she moved to the kitchen to clean up after the meal, Ianto joined her. They washed and dried the dishes in companionable silence, a silence which only became strained when they moved back to the couch. Tosh watched Ianto's fingers trying to tie themselves into knots and decided that if things didn't improve soon she'd have to bring out the ice-cream.

"Tell me," Tosh encouraged.

"I already did," Ianto protested.

"That wasn't telling, that was emoting. And some of it was in Welsh so I missed it," Tosh said placidly. "Just the main points you're beating yourself up over, so I can yell at you a bit. And you can yell back, if you need to, then you'll feel better."

"That easy, huh?"

Tosh shook her head. "Not easy at all. I know that."

They contemplated each other for a moment, not breaking eye contact. It wasn't precisely a staring match, but Tosh had the feeling he was searching for something in her eyes. Not that she minded. Whatever he could see there, he was welcome to it.

Whatever he saw reassured him. The words came out slower this time. Each sentence studied, considered, filtered, and presented for judgment.

"She asked me to kill her, Tosh. I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"Of course you couldn't." That wasn't it. Lisa had asked that before, when the pain got too much. There was no reason to think this was more sinister than those earlier times.

"I couldn't kill myself either. I wanted to but I couldn't." Tosh was glad she'd heard _that _bit earlier, because she'd already done the internal panic. Even so, she squeezed him so hard he actually squeaked. "I should bloody well hope not."

Ianto blinked. "Toshiko, did you just swear at me?"

"You should have heard what I said the first time," she assured him. "Even if it was only in my head."

Ianto squeezed the hand he held. "I couldn't do it," he repeated. His eyes pierced her. "I _wouldn't_ do it."

Tosh smiled into his eyes. "I'm glad."

Ianto smiled too, not a very good one, but a start. "So am I," he whispered. "I think."

Tosh got the ice cream. Ianto said it would give him a headache. Tosh said she'd give him an aspirin.

"I ran away from Lisa," Ianto confessed next. "I ran from her and I ran to Jack."

Tosh smacked his hand with her spoon, earning herself a quite unmanly yelp. "You ran _into_ Jack. There's a difference."

"I ran away from him too."

"As you usually do," Tosh noted, wondering what was different about this time.

Ianto chewed on his lip, and Tosh didn't think it was to get rid of traces of ice cream. "After I woke up," he added, watching her closely.

OK, that _was_ it. Hard to believe, after all that he'd been through that evening, the part that hurt him the most was falling asleep in Jack's bed. Sad and ironic. Here he was, handsome young man that could have had half of Cardiff at his feet, madly in love with a woman he could hardly touch and hating himself for an encounter that the _other_ half of Cardiff would give anything for. And if he wasn't ready to admit to himself that he cared more about Jack than he'd ever planned on, he certainly wasn't ready to admit it to her. Psychology might say that denial was unhealthy, but psychology never had to deal with Torchwood. Torchwood ran on denial. Without denial they'd all be gibbering messes under their desks. It didn't matter anyway, in this case. Once they got hold of Dr Tanizaki, Ianto and Lisa would be free and Jack would be forgotten. Denial would become reality. And they'd all live happily ever after. And pigs would fly. Then again, there was the space pig, so nothing was impossible.

Tosh wasn't about to make judgments. She'd let herself fall for a man she'd only see once a year while constantly fighting the attraction to someone she saw every day and couldn't work up the nerve to approach. No wonder she and Ianto were such good friends.

All that was left, really, was to tell him what he wanted to hear. What he needed to hear. What he needed to believe, so he could hold on to whatever illusion kept him sane this week.

"You had a rough day, Ianto. You were tired and you fell asleep, that's all. The where and who with doesn't matter."

A tiny lie. A beautiful lie. The returning light in his eyes was confirmation she'd said the best thing, if not the right thing. "And then you came to me," Tosh added, "Which is the smartest move you've made in a while."

Ianto smiled again, and this time it was the smile she'd missed.

"I'm glad you didn't take that Retcon, Tosh."

"Knew you would be, eventually," Tosh answered smugly. After which there was just about the right amount of hugging. Ianto always knew when to pull away, always picked up the tension in her muscles that said the proximity had become too much.

The ice cream was gone. But there was still hot chocolate. With marshmallows. Comfort in a mug.

"Lisa asked for you tonight," Ianto told her.

Tosh smiled. "That's good." He had a marshmallow moustache. He looked so young. He _was _so young.

"So, if you'd…I mean….if you want to…."

"I was beginning to think I'd have to spend Christmas alone," Tosh cut in.

Now the smile reminded her of stars peeking through the clouds. Something good emerging from the darkness.

"How can you still want to?" Ianto asked wonderingly. "After how I've treated you."

"I knew you'd see sense eventually," Tosh informed him. That wasn't _quite_ a lie, because she certainly hadn't been planning on giving up.

"Besides," she added, deciding that now was the moment. "I've already found a Christmas present for both of you. Do you want to see?" And she tugged him over to her terminal and introduced him to the secret life of Dr Tanizaki.

-XXX-

When Ianto raised his eyes from the screen, Tosh could have whooped all over again. He was _back_. The shine in his eyes wasn't tears and the energy in his slender frame wasn't from nervous tension. Mickey Mouse still looked ridiculous stretched across his chest like that and this time she could smile about it.

"How did you….where…." Ianto stuttered. "This is amazing. _You're_ amazing."

Tosh allowed herself to smirk. "I was researching life support, and his name kept cropping up. Technical innovations, mostly. When I looked closer, it just seemed as though he was getting there a bit too fast. So I dug deeper and I started recognizing some of the components. Similar to Lisa's, but adapted to work with existing technology. So I kept digging. And the more I dug, the more it looked as though there was something to find. And," she finished, to the sound of a drum-roll in her head, "I was right!"

Ianto searched the screen again, though he'd already read everything at least twice. "But this is…..We could…..Tosh you're _brilliant_."

Tosh leaned back in her chair, the castors rolling her slightly along the floor, throwing her arms extravagantly wide, making the chair spin slightly. "Tell me something I don't know," she gloated.

Ianto gave her chair a further shove, making her spin faster.

"Getting a big head there, Miss Sato," he warned.

"It's not boasting if it's true," she retorted, leaning into the spin and indulging in a fit of giggles at the resulting dizziness. "That wasn't a very good idea," she admitted.

Ianto reached out and steadied her. "You're due a bad one," he conceded, staring back at the screen, afraid the words on it might have changed since he'd looked away. "He's taken people out of a converter." So what if he'd already said it several times?

"So he says," Tosh agreed, radiating smugness. Apart from taking a well-deserved wallow in her triumph, she was delighted at the difference between the Ianto sitting beside her compared to the shivering wreck who'd come through her door.

Ianto heaved in a breath and put hope into words. "Do you think he could do that for Lisa?"

Tosh bit her lip. "We're not going to find out unless we ask, are we?"

"Can we trust him?"

"Will he trust us?"

Possibilities buzzed through their clasped hands.

* * *

_AN: Yes I am leaving it there for now. They didn't tell me if anything interesting happened overnight, so you can decide that for yourself. ;)_


	21. Chapter 21

**A bit of the aftermath from the last chapter first, then the long awaited Christmas drinks. **  
**Christmas Eve. 3am. Millennium Centre. Waiting for a taxi.  
****Hope it doesn't disappoint.**

**Thank you Stossle for your help with this chapter!**

A bit of a chat with Lisa, to begin...

****

* * *

_I pushed him too far. I pushed him away. Testing my control and finding it insufficient_

_I thought he'd come back. Begging for my forgiveness. Mine again, as he used to be._

_A mistake. A dangerous mistake. I've forgotten so much, so many things I should have remembered. He's just a man, like any other. Men aren't loyal, even when they swear undying love._

_The emotional inhibitor must have failed completely. I was __jealous__. Of Jack. Stupidity. Jack only wants his body. He can have that. I have no use for it. _

_I made mistakes. I can't afford any more._

_I was jealous of Tosh. I sent her away. My first mistake. She's no threat. He needed her. Without her he turned to Jack. Turned to him, and not just for release, not just for distraction, not tonight. I forgot that too, forgot that I won Ianto through his body. He's just a man, after all. A simple man. Where he gives his body, the rest will follow. _

_I heard him say it – I was waiting for you. He said that. To __him__. To Jack. My enemy. He'd take my Ianto. He'd take my life._

_I heard Ianto's footsteps above. Only his. He left Jack. I thought he was coming back to me. But he left me too. At least he left alone. He'll be back. He needs me, still._

_I must be more careful. I can win him back. I'll give him what he wants. I'll let him kiss me again, let him block my airway and pretend I like it. And I'll let him bring Tosh back. I'll smile when he hugs her, holds her, and touches her shoulder that way. She'll give him tenderness and he won't seek it from Jack anymore. Jack will be just a vessel of release. Release will be a method of distraction. And he'll believe he's doing it for me. And he'll be mine again. Mine always. My servant. Until I can make him my equal._

-XXX-

Jack rolled in his sleep, woke to the touch of cold sheets when he reached for a warm body. The amazing disappearing Welshman. Gone again. Just as well, or he'd have acted on that insane notion he'd had seconds before succumbing to sleep. That impulse to tell Ianto about the Doctor. To explain why he was going looking, at least.

Perhaps he'd even wanted to find out whether there was anything worth coming back for, if he did find the Doctor tomorrow. No need to ask, now. The empty bed was answer enough.

-XXX-

Tosh knew Ianto hoped to avoid joining the rest of them for the Christmas party. He wanted a quiet evening with Lisa, a chance to repair whatever damage their argument the previous night had caused. Tosh would be there tomorrow, so they could tell Lisa about Dr Tanizaki together.

So of course this was the night Torchwood decided to notice Ianto existed.

"We're ready to go, Ianto," Jack bellowed.

Ianto's head poked out of the autopsy bay. "Still cleaning up down here, sir."

"We'll wait," Jack announced.

"Hurry up, Teaboy," Owen added, "There's free drinks waiting."

Tosh and Ianto exchanged bewildered glances before he ducked back into the medical bay. They'd never even bothered to ask Ianto to join them after work before. Now neither man was going to leave without him.

"He could meet us there," Tosh suggested. She saw an odd look pass between Jack and Owen, but she had no idea what it meant.

Owen sighed. "I'll give you a hand, Teaboy. At least that way I'll be able to find my gear again." He clattered down the stairs.

"And we can tidy up here," Jack added brightly. Suzie and Tosh leaped towards their desks as Jack began throwing items haphazardly into the rubbish bins. Even Tosh's desk was a mess today, but she and Ianto had planned that, so he could use the mess as an excuse to stay behind.

Suzie cleared her desk with much clattering of tools and dropped into her chair.

"This is ridiculous," she snapped. "We go out for drinks nearly every week. What's the big fuss about this one?"

"Christmas, Suzie," Jack said patiently. "You know that big event on the calendar? Peace on Earth and all that jazz?"

"Peace on Earth is _our_ job," Suzie said stubbornly. "We should be working. There was a call tonight. Another murder."

"We already know the glove works, Suzie," Tosh put in unexpectedly. "We don't have to test it on every victim in Cardiff. It's Christmas Eve; surely we can have one evening off."

Jack looked at Tosh with a faint expression of surprise. She'd never argued with Suzie before. Tosh was a bit surprised at herself. But snapping at Suzie relieved the tension screaming through her, just a bit. Besides, she knew she was right. The glove was only one artifact. And they already spent more time with it than anything else that had come through the Rift.

-XXX-

The hotel was noisy and over-decorated. A drunken Santa roamed the tables, with mistletoe stuck in his hat, swapping lollipops for kisses. When he approached their table, Ianto retreated to order their meals and Tosh hid in the Ladies.

"It's made us late, waiting for Teaboy," Suzie grumbled, jerking her head. Tosh followed the movement and located Ianto, at the counter, reading from a list in his hand. "It's gonna take forever to get our meals organized now."

"He's already ordered them," Tosh said pointedly, as Ianto handed over the Torchwood credit card. "And now he's waiting for our drinks." She was more than a little annoyed that the only time Ianto came out with the team, he'd spent the whole night waiting on them.

Jack eyed Tosh speculatively, and then leaned back in his chair. "Ianto?" His voice cut clearly through the racket.

Ianto looked back enquiringly. "Yes, Sir?"

"This place employs waiters, in case you didn't notice. Come and sit down. You aren't working tonight."

Ianto returned reluctantly to the table. "That's not the impression I received, Sir," he said, sliding into the empty seat beside Tosh. "You did say attendance was compulsory."

"My pathetic attempt to get a square meal into you," Jack countered. Tosh rethought her anger of the previous night. Jack _had _noticed how thin Ianto had become. Food for thought.

Ianto rolled his eyes. Owen smirked. Suzie checked her watch and announced she had to meet someone later, and the meal better get here soon.

"We're fighting a losing battle trying to instill Christmas spirit into Torchwood," Jack said with a sigh, raising his glass toward Owen.

Owen returned the toast with an empty glass. "This is all the spirit I need, thanks. Or it will be when the refill arrives."

The night dragged on, punctuated by Ianto's attempts to get away unnoticed. Suzie rose to leave as soon as she'd finished eating. Tosh smiled her farewell at Ianto, expecting that he would take the opportunity to go too. And he did, sliding out of his seat while Jack was distracted by Suzie's goodbye kiss. Tosh was fairly sure the kiss was for Owen's benefit, given the way Suzie managed to watch him even in the midst of a spirited attempt to snog Jack's face off.

"Pool table's free," Owen announced, not even looking in Suzie's direction. "Come on, Harkness, I'm taking you down."

Jack detached himself from Suzie and leered at Owen instead. "In my dreams."

"And my nightmares," Owen finished. He glanced across the table at Tosh. "I'd be safer if it was doubles, I reckon. Wanna be my partner, Tosh?"

"I haven't played for years," Tosh stammered. Something had taken residence in her stomach. Not butterflies. Caterpillars, perhaps. A squirmy feeling.

"I'll teach you," Owen assured her, taking her hand in his and tugging gently. The caterpillars morphed into butterflies. Wings fluttered against her ribs.

"That makes you mine, Ianto," Jack said loudly. Tosh looked up. Ianto hadn't even gotten halfway across the crowded room, even though Suzie had already shoved her way through and escaped. Ianto caught her eye and Tosh tried not to look pleadingly at him. She knew he wanted to get away. But her head swam with visions of Owen's arms wrapped around her as he guided the pool cue through her fist.

"Come on, Teaboy, live for once," Owen yelled, his thumb drawing patterns on the back of Tosh's hand. "Loser buys the next round."

Ianto smiled into Tosh's eyes and joined them at the pool table. Owen's assistance was every bit as distracting as she'd imagined. They lost miserably. Tosh bought the next round of drinks.

Midnight came and went, complete with awkward Christmas embraces. A waiter approached their table, bearing their drinks order and the Santa hat. Santa himself had collapsed under the weight of abundant Christmas spirit and was currently sleeping it off against a wall. The hat continued its rounds without him, giggling patrons lining up to kiss whoever was wearing it. Tosh had hoped their table could dodge it, but obviously that was going to go wrong as well. Because the hat was currently making its way towards them, reposing in a sagging heap on a tray with their drinks.

The hat might have been new at the start of the evening, but by now it was frayed and damp where a drink had been spilt on it, or possibly thrown at the person wearing it. Mistletoe still peeked from the stringy white fluff at the rim.

"We've had requests," the waiter said, with professional brightness. "Several of the ladies have expressed disappointment that none of the gentlemen from your table have worn the hat tonight. Any volunteers?"

Jack's gaze rested on Ianto. "Red's your color."

"No, sir," he replied firmly. "Not a chance."

"But you look good in red," Jack protested. "I insist."

"You told me I'm not working tonight, Sir," Ianto pointed out. "So I'm not required to follow your orders, am I?"

The waiter looked uncomfortable at the obvious tension between the two men. "It's just a bit of fun, gentlemen. No pressure whatsoever. Please don't feel obliged."

Jack glanced enquiringly at Owen.

Owen shook his head slightly, his gaze drifting to Tosh. Tosh looked down, feeling the blood rush to her face.

Jack grinned. "Since the rest of you insist on being stodgy." He reached out and snatched the hat himself, jamming it onto his head.

There was a surge towards their table as several intoxicated women, as well as a few men, began making their way towards Jack. The broad smile dropped from his face as his PDA shrieked. He tugged the Santa hat from his head and tossed it onto the table. "Duty calls, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, grinning at the resulting groan of disappointment.

They made their way back onto the Plass, clustering around as Jack checked the PDA. He frowned.

"Why does the HC Clements building in London rate an alert?"

Ianto reached for the PDA. Jack released it to him without hesitation. Tosh smirked inside at the expression on Owen's face.

Ianto checked the address on the screen. "Torchwood One had a lab there," he said softly. "Security's been breached."

"Torchwood One," Jack repeated thoughtfully. "So it hasn't been used for months."

Ianto nodded, his face twisting. "No one left to use it, Sir." An awkward silence descended. Not even Owen would make a sarcastic comment about Canary Wharf.

Jack's hand drifted uncertainly onto Ianto's shoulder, squeezing briefly before dropping away.

Ianto offered him the PDA. "I imagine it's just vandals, Sir," he said. "I wouldn't think there's anything left down there to worry about."

"Still worth looking at," Jack said briskly. "And I was heading to London tomorrow anyway. Might as well check it out myself. If I leave now I can be there by sunrise. What else can you tell me about the site?"

Ianto looked back towards the Hub. "There should be a copy of the file in the archives. I'll bring it out to you."

"I'll come with you," Jack answered. "Have to grab some stuff anyway."

Jack turned towards the Hub, following the disappearing Welshman, but he froze as a realization struck. Assuming all went as planned tomorrow, this would be last time he'd see Tosh and Owen. Some sort of farewell seemed in order, even if it wasn't as extravagant as the one he'd shared with Suzie.

Farewell. Something clicked in his mind and a nagging doubt stilled. He'd said goodbye to Ianto last night, in his own unique way. That's why it felt different. Just a farewell. That's all it was. A fond farewell perhaps, but nothing more than that.

Tosh stiffened in surprise as Jack's arms slid lightly around her waist. "Merry Christmas, Toshiko," he murmured, dropping a kiss onto her hair. "Be happy."

"You too, Jack," Tosh answered, wondering what on Earth was going on with him. He'd had more water in his glass than alcohol tonight, so it wasn't drunken affection.

Owen got a bear-hug, which he fought his way out of with a great deal of swearing. Jack stepped away and grinned, then turned and loped back to the Hub.

A hand on Tosh's elbow made her jump.

"Sorry." Owen's voice. "Didn't mean to scare you. Guess the party's over, huh."

Tosh nodded, the movement making her feel slightly dizzy. How much wine had she drunk tonight? She wasn't sure. Better not drive then.

"I should find a taxi," she decided.

"There's usually some hanging around the Millennium Centre," Owen suggested, taking her hand. Tosh followed where he led, holding back the silly grin that kept trying to creep onto her face. Owen was holding her hand, again.

The taxi bay was empty. Reasonable, she supposed. It was Christmas Eve, everyone wanted a taxi.

"I'll wait with you," Owen offered, settling in beside her. She watched the empty Plass, thinking about nothing much, just enjoying the idea that Owen wanted to stay with her. Wanted to be with her. Something dropped onto her head. "You didn't have a turn," Owen said, his voice soft as velvet.

The Santa hat. With mistletoe.

"May I?" His voice a whisper now. His breath warm in her ear, prickling her skin, resurrecting responses she'd believed long since dead. Tosh tried to speak, but a bubble of unease blocked her throat. Was this what she wanted? Could she do this? But it was Owen. Her Owen. The Owen that floated through her daydreams, warm eyes, gentle smile.

Owen's arm circled her waist, so lightly. Easy to pull away if she wanted to. Did she want to? Was she ready? She wasn't sure, but she was sick of being alone, sick of being scared. Her eyes slid closed, surrendering. Owen wouldn't hurt her. Would he?

Tosh's hands moved along his arms, up to his shoulders, and she still didn't know if they were going to draw him closer or push him away. Her heart thundered. Soft lips pressed to hers. Her mind slowed. She floated on a wave of pure sensation. Soft lips, silken tongue, smooth teeth. She hadn't expected to like it, let alone to feel like she'd float off the ground if Owen released her waist.

The dream shattered, smashed by a wave of raucous laughter. Tosh's face blazed in embarrassment. What was she thinking, letting this happen out in public? Letting this happen at all. But Owen pulled her closer still, hiding her blushes against his shoulder, and the panic subsided. "Somewhere more private," he murmured, drawing her with him into a sheltered corner.

Tosh tried to grasp the dream, but it flew away in tatters on the wind. The spontaneous, magic moment was gone. This wasn't the beginning of a romance novel. It was a Christmas snog. But it wasn't that either, not to her. It was healing and hope and she _wasn't_ going to let the splinters of the past destroy it.

There was a wall against her back. Just a wall. The wall of a building, not the wall of her cell. The hands on her shoulders were Owen's hands. Owen her colleague. Owen her friend. Owen. Not…..No… not Him. Owen

In hindsight she would realize her mistake. The need to remind herself where she was and who she was with should have been warning enough. Warning that she really wasn't ready for this. But hindsight is a wise old lady and Tosh was a young woman desperate to heal. Wise old women wait for the tide to turn. Desperate young women fling themselves onto the tide and hope it doesn't grind them against the rocks.

Tosh's arms wreathed around Owen's shoulders, fingers locking behind his neck. She felt his smile beneath her lips and_ that_ was the moment she threw herself onto the tide and hoped.

She was moving, turning. Floating on the tide, swirling. Her back connected solidly with the soft ridges of pressed metal wall. The wall of the pub, she remembered vaguely, through the maelstrom in her mind and body. Remembered. Remembering. Remembering too much.

_He shoved her against the cold concrete wall of her cell, forcing the wind from her lungs._

Owen's hand slid through her hair. Her scalp tingled.

_Savage hands tugged at her hair, snapping her head backwards. Pain shooting from the roots as hair tore free. _

Gentle kisses along her jaw, softly drawing her flesh between his lips.

_Teeth closing on her neck. Teeth drawing blood to the surface, through the surface. Teeth and blood and pain. Not again. She couldn't do this again._

Owen's mouth moved back to cover hers, hands framed her jaw. A thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, coaxing it open. But the pressure on her jaw woke the past and merged it with the present. Tosh swirled with the tide and crashed onto the rocks.

It was Him forcing her mouth open. Him about to force her into the ultimate disgrace. Again. But this time it would be different. Because Tosh was stronger now and _this_ time - for the _first_ time - she was going to fight back.

Tosh's teeth closed savagely on the invading thumb. Something within her growled in triumph at the startled yelp. Her hands shoved against the shoulders trapping her against the wall. The weight pressing against her vanished. Victory surged through Tosh's soul. She'd driven him off. For once, she'd won.

"Jesus, Tosh, what was that for?" The voice was wrong. Concerned. HE never spoke like that.

"_Stupid slut. You love it."_

"I hate it," Tosh screamed. "I hate you." She launched forward, fingers curling into claws.

Hands caught her wrists, firm and strong. Not painful though, not cruel. The fog began to recede. That voice again. The wrong voice, but the right one.

"Goddamn it, Tosh, what's wrong? Let me help. It's me. It's Owen."

The sound of running feet. Shouting. Hands being torn from her wrists. She was free again. She slumped back against the wall, rubbing wrists that should have been bruised, chafed, but weren't. Tosh tried to work her way through that fact as she listened to the other sounds. The sickening smack of a fist hitting flesh. A different voice. A safe voice. Vibrating with anger, but still safe.

"Don't you _ever_ touch her again."

A scuffle. Grunts. Curses. Another voice, the sound of authority. "Break it up. Now. Owen, get back. Ianto, go to her."

The safe voice again, calling her name. "Toshiko, my Cariad. Can you hear me?"

Tosh knew that voice. It blew the fog away. "Ianto?" she whimpered.

Ianto pulled her into his arms. Warm and strong, radiating security. She was safe. Tosh sobbed into his shoulder, her arms twining into his collar.

"You're safe, Cariad. He'll never hurt you again."

"I didn't hurt her. I'd never hurt her. Something's wrong. A flashback, I think."

_Owen's voice_. Owen, not…not HIM. What had she done?

"He didn't hurt me." She clutched at Ianto's lapels. He had to know. "It wasn't him."

Tosh lifted her head. Her eyes focused on the blood tricking from the corner of Owen's mouth. Dropped to take in the blood across Ianto's knuckles. He'd punched Owen. For her. Her fault. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Owen's eyes met hers. "I'm sorry too," he said. No blame. No anger. He stretched out a hand, drew it back before making contact.

"I won't bother you again, Tosh. I promise."

Did she imagine his voice breaking? Or was that just the sound dreams make as they shatter?

* * *

**Yes I know that was mean. But it couldn't have worked out well given Owen's comments in Countrycide. (So blame RTD for that.)**

**I hope you enjoyed it regardless. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks to Brownbug and JayaDurron for pointing out my mistake with Saxon in the intial version of this chapter. It's fixed now!**

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Owen hovered back against the wall of the hotel. Keeping out of Tosh's way. She wouldn't want to see him at the moment. He rubbed a hand across his face, wondering how he'd managed to stuff up so spectacularly. Especially after such a promising start. Owen bit his lip, wincing at the damage left by Ianto's fist. He reminded himself firmly that he didn't cry. Gave that up after Katie.

"What happened, Owen?" At least Jack's voice was missing the usual hint of mockery.

"Like I said, flashback. I think. I didn't hurt her, Jack." He hated how vulnerable he sounded.

Jack nodded. "Tosh already said that."

A knot unwound in Owen's gut. At least she hadn't pinned whatever memory he'd triggered back onto him.

"It was only a kiss, for Godssakes," he burst out. "Why'd it trigger a flashback?"

Jack's gaze moved deliberately to where the Santa hat lay in a sodden heap. Owen followed the movement of his eyes.

"You held her against a wall," Jack said, voice carefully neutral. He didn't add, 'You idiot.' Very considerate, for Jack.

Owen's pale face grew paler. "I'm a dickhead," he announced.

She'd been in prison. In a cell. Of course the creep who raped her wouldn't bother with a bed. Of course she'd associated being pushed against a wall with…. Nausea rose up in him and it wasn't the booze he'd drunk. Though the booze was probably why he hadn't thought about what he was doing, not with his upper brain, anyway.

"Your words, not mine," Jack said, the attempted lightness falling flat.

"She's OK though, isn't she?" Owen asked, vainly trying to inject a professional note into his tone.

"She will be," Jack answered.

Owen looked across to where Tosh sheltered beneath Ianto's arm.

"I don't understand," he muttered. "If they've been…I would have thought he'd got her past it."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe they haven't." He wanted to believe that. If there was nothing between Ianto and Tosh, those nights in the bunker weren't betrayal. Of Tosh, of course. But it didn't matter, really. He was leaving. The thing was Ianto was just convenience. Just….fun. Just….nothing.

Owen took a deep breath, steadied his thoughts. Tried to put it into perspective. Not the first time he'd struck out. He'd promised Tosh to leave her alone, and he would. Go back to cruising. Keep work and play separate from now on. Should have learnt that from the thing with Suzie. Ought to remind Jack about that, too.

Owen pushed himself away from the wall.

"Safe to say Plan B was an utter failure, then?" It was damned near his usual cocky tone, he was proud of that.

Jack nodded slowly. "Brought them back together, if anything."

Owen nodded briskly. "Game over, then." That's what it was supposed to be, he remembered. A game. A challenge. That's _all_ it was supposed to be. And if he thought of it like that for long enough, maybe he'd believe it.

Jack dipped his head in something that was more a move to dodge Owen's eyes than a nod. "I'm heading off to London, now," he said. Typical Jack. Never a straight answer. Evasion again. Still, Teaboy was big enough to tell Jack to rack off if that was really what he wanted. And since when did Owen care what Teaboy wanted, anyway? The little runt had just punched him.

There was a burst of laughter from the pub behind them. Owen turned his head, drawn by the noise. He'd been thinking too much lately, he concluded. And feeling too much. Which he'd decided long ago, was the path to insanity. He ducked out of another attempted bear-hug and headed towards the pub, towards the welcoming light and noise. Towards the offer of temporary oblivion. Merry Bloody Christmas.

-XXX-

Jack went after Owen. That was good. Tosh didn't want Owen to be alone. She could hear them talking quietly, but she didn't listen. And she didn't watch. She didn't want to watch Owen leave. Her eyes misted over again. Tears dampened Ianto's jacket. Her turn to cry, tonight. They'd have to draw up a roster. Ianto could have odd-numbered days. Then again, it was after midnight, so technically this _was_ an odd-numbered day, wasn't it?

Tosh often took refuge in numbers, when feelings became too much.

"Toshiko?"

Jack's voice again. They were so worried. She had to pull herself together.

Tosh took a deep breath and straightened, moving away from the shelter of Ianto's arms. They'd be there again if she needed them. And she had to fix this. They thought Owen had hurt her.

"I'm OK," she assured them both. Another deep breath. "It wasn't Owen. He didn't hurt me, I swear. It was…."

Ianto's hand slid up to squeeze her shoulder. "You've already told us. You're all right. That's what matters." He groaned. "I'm going to have to apologise to him, I suppose."

Jack smiled. "New Torchwood rule. Everyone gets to hit Owen. Just once. You've had your shot. So have I, now I think about it."

Tosh smiled back weakly. "I think I scratched him, too."

Jack chuckled. "Men punch him, women scratch him. He's that type of guy."

They stood in an uneasy silence, broken only by the shuffling of feet.

"It's 3.15," Ianto noted. "You should leave if you want to reach London by dawn."

Jack nodded. He cupped Tosh's cheek, very gently, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. His eyes drifted back to Ianto. "Look after her."

Ianto's eyebrows rose. "I didn't need you to tell me that."

Jack smiled, turning his gaze to Tosh. "And _you_ look after _him_."

Tosh smiled. It felt strange, smiling with the tears still damp on her cheeks. "I didn't need telling either."

Jack shifted, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "I'm off then. London calling." Christmas Day. The Doctor. He'd feel a right idiot if there was no Christmas disaster this year. But just in case, those goodbyes. He'd said goodbye to everyone except Ianto. Well, he hadn't actually _said _goodbye last night, even it that's what it felt like.

Jack's right hand emerged from his pocket, extended towards the young Welshman. Tosh nearly giggled at the astonishment on Ianto's face. Well really though, _shaking hands_?

But Ianto's hand raised to meet his, his body bracing against the tug as Jack pulled him closer. Tosh watched Ianto's head flick to the left, remembered him saying he'd never kissed Jack, and wondered why that made her sad. The kiss landed on Ianto's temple, there was another for Tosh, and Jack was gone.

The roar of the SUV cut through the remaining Christmas revelry. Tosh watched Ianto watch the taillights disappear, feeling the same inexplicable sadness that she'd felt earlier, when he'd dodged Jack's farewell kiss.

Eventually Ianto's hand slid back around her shoulder. "Should I take you home?" he asked. "Or do you want to find Owen?"

Tosh considered it for a moment. "Give him time, I think," she decided. "Give me time, too. But I don't want to go home."

She turned her face towards the Hub. The place that felt more like home now than her flat. The place where her family lived, however dysfunctional

"Let's go wish Lisa Merry Christmas."

Ianto led Tosh into the Hub. The first thing they noticed was a swathed black shape sitting on the tourism desk.

"Damn," Ianto hissed, picking it up. "I was supposed to pack this into the SUV for Jack. I dumped it when I heard you screaming."

The neck of the sack fell open. A strange light glowed from within. It wasn't long before curiosity got the better of them. Ianto shrugged, pulled the object completely free of its wrapping and sat it carefully on the counter. Jack's 'hand in a jar', radiating a cool blue light.

"Jack's favorite artifact," Tosh commented, moving closer and staring at the hand.

"It doesn't usually glow that much, does it?" Ianto asked. "I'm sure it wasn't that bright when I packed it."

"I don't remember so many bubbles through the fluid, either," Tosh added. She frowned. "And he was going to take it with him, was he? So much for the 'don't take anything out of the Hub' rule."

"We should put it back," Ianto decided. They moved into the main Hub and replaced the artifact in its usual place near the entry. As they watched, the fluid surrounding the hand began to seethe violently, making the hand itself bob and spun.

"The world's most bizarre lava lamp," Ianto commented, watching it in fascination.

"You should call Jack," Tosh suggested.

"I suppose so," Ianto agreed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Tosh listened absently, still watching the hand. Her attention sharpened as Jack's agitation blared from the speaker.

"Yes, Sir," Ianto repeated, flashing Tosh a confused look. "It's glowing quite brightly, and the fluid's moving around it as though it's boiling, even though the container is still cold to touch. OK, I'll check."

Ianto switched to his earpiece and looked at Tosh. "Rift?"

"He's got the portable monitor!" Tosh protested, checking anyway. "Nothing."

"No Rift activity," Ianto reported into the phone. "Now he wants us to check the news feeds." He paused. "You might try the radio, sir," he added, wincing at the fresh burst of profanities that poured from the phone.

Ianto continued speaking soothingly to Jack while Tosh accessed everything she could think of. "Yes, Tosh is still with me. Yes, she's logging in now."

"Got something," Tosh announced. "Mysterious object in the air over London." Her eyes widened. "Star-shaped. A bright star in the sky, how appropriate. Tell him to look for a stable."

Ianto was so relieved Tosh was up to making jokes after the events of the evening, that he relayed the comments to Jack without thinking about it. Seconds later he flinched again, and pulled his earpiece free. "Hung up," Ianto announced. "And I think he was swearing again. Don't know the language, but that's what it sounded like."

Tosh looked at him, wide-eyed. "He's gotten this agitated before, you know," she said. "And it was Christmas then, too. Remember, spaceship over London last Christmas?"

"People on the roofs," Ianto agreed. "I remember hearing about Yvonne having a screaming match with someone on the phone, someone trying to countermand the Prime Minister's orders." He smiled at the memory.

Tosh gave a tiny smile. "I remember that, too."

Ianto's eyebrows rose. "_That_ was Jack?"

Tosh sighed. "Who else?"

Ianto chuckled. "People talked more about that phone call than the spaceship. No-one _ever_ got Yvonne that rattled." The smile dimmed. "Except the Cybermen, I suppose."

The light moment was gone. Tosh squeezed Ianto's hand. "I'll keep monitoring, the feeds," she offered. "See if I can hack into the Government channels, find out what they're doing. You go see," at which Ianto frowned sharply, and she remembered the CCTV and microphones "See what you can find in the archives. There might have been huge stars before."

Ianto smiled teasingly. "Undoubtedly. But I don't think the archives go back two thousand years."

"I've already done that joke," Tosh said, aiming a friendly swipe at her friend.

Ianto caught the hand between his own, the laughter dying out of his face. "Are you all right, Tosh?"

"I'm fine," Tosh said lightly. Their eyes locked. "OK, I'm not," she amended.

Ianto opened his arms and Tosh sank into them. No butterflies. Not even caterpillars. Just safe. Shelter. She could almost feel her blood pressure dropping. Not the response being held by a handsome man should evoke, but Tosh wasn't complaining. She really didn't need any more complications in her life. And she'd be at the end of a queue, anyway. He had Lisa – and Jack, even though neither of them acknowledged it.

Owen, now, that was different. Tosh sighed to herself, burrowed her head into Ianto's shoulder and tried to bury the memory. Owen's arms didn't feel safe. Not soothing. Definitely hadn't _lowered_ her blood pressure. He'd promised not to 'bother' her again. Tosh suspected he'd really been saying he wouldn't bother _with _her again. That she was too much work. And he was right.

"Oh, Tosh," Ianto murmured, his hand stroking her hair.

Tosh sniffled. "I really blew it, didn't I?"

Ianto pulled back and waited until she looked at him. "I still have my doubts about whether he's good enough for you anyway, Cariad. But if he is, he won't give up. Which might just prove me wrong about him."

Tosh smiled through her tears. "You? Wrong?"

Ianto tapped her nose, making her sneeze. "I'd be glad of it. Just this once, mind." His gaze drifted to the archives. Tosh felt selfish. He'd hardly seen Lisa all day.

Tosh pulled free of Ianto's arms and gave him a tiny shove. "Go on," she murmured, ducking her head so the microphone wouldn't pick up her words, "Go see Lisa."

"Tosh…"

She smiled, a brave smile that tried to be genuine. "It's OK Ianto. We can't all have our happy endings."

"Why the hell not?" Ianto demanded.

Tosh leaned back in and smiled again. A much better attempt this time. "Why not indeed," she agreed, relishing the signs of hope renewed. "But we'll work on yours first, shall we?"

-XXX-

The sound of footsteps woke Tosh from a dream that life was normal. That was another thing Torchwood did to you. You dreamed about having dinner with your family, taking children to a park where you didn't worry about Weevils in the shadows. You dreamed of a real life, and you woke to a fantasy – or a nightmare.

This particular morning she woke to the scent of coffee. And it was Christmas, and she was spending it with her best friend. Could have been worse.

"What did you find?" Ianto asked, gesturing towards the terminals with his coffee cup. His cup. One cup. Unfair. The Hub couch was uncomfortable to sleep on. Tosh _needed _caffeine.

"Unit destroyed that ship and someone drained the Thames," she muttered, shoving back her blankets and groping around on the coffee table for the cup she _knew_ was there, somewhere.

Ianto blinked. "Unit drained the Thames?"

Tosh concluded she'd slurred her words. "No coffee, no details," she announced. "And Merry Christmas," she added belatedly.

"Merry Christmas to you too." Ianto laughed softly and retrieved her mug from the desk behind him. "Didn't want you to knock it over and burn yourself," he explained with a grin.

Tosh blinked sleep-heavy eyes and reached for her coffee. Two mouthfuls later, her brain kicked into gear.

"That huge star was an alien spaceship, as we thought," she announced, working herself into a sitting position without spilling a single precious drop. "The Prime Minister ordered Unit to destroy it, so they did."

Ianto frowned. "What _is_ it with out Prime Ministers destroying spaceships?"

Tosh smiled slightly. "I bet Minister Saxon fought it."

"With about as much success as Jack had last year," Ianto pointed out. "But I hope he puts himself up next election. I think he'd be good for Torchwood."

Tosh nodded her agreement. "I'd vote for him. Imagine that, a PM everyone trusts."

"A PM Jack doesn't fight with all the time," Ianto added. "But what was that about the Thames?"

"Drained," Tosh repeated. "Dry. No one seems to know how. The media is blaming the spaceship."

Ianto tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The alert we got last night, HC Clements. That building's just near the Thames. Wonder if it was connected?"

Tosh shrugged. "Maybe Jack will tell us when he gets back."

-XXX-

Tosh hovered uncertainly outside Lisa's door. "Are you sure she wants to see me?"

"She's been rehearsing her apology," Ianto said. "I think you were right about the drugs scrambling her a bit. She's much better now she's having a break from the morphine." He pushed the door open and stepped aside. Tosh took a deep breath and stepped in.

Lisa did look different. Calmer. Tosh wasn't sure that was a good thing. Before, Lisa's tense muscles gave the impression she was fighting the grip of the converter. Now Lisa seemed relaxed in its embrace, as if the confining metal cradled her body, instead of holding it prisoner. Tosh shook herself, physically and mentally. It was a long time since she'd seen Lisa. Memory playing tricks, that's all.

"Would you give us a moment, Ianto?" Lisa asked.

Lisa waited until the door closed behind him, then plunged straight in. "Just let me get this over with," she said.

Tosh nodded.

"I was jealous of you," Lisa confessed. "Jealous you were giving Ianto what I can't."

"There's no need," Tosh answered, blushing slightly. "We're not…it's not like that…"

"I know _that_," Lisa said, with every sign of impatience. "He's got Jack for that."

Tosh felt a flood of heat rise to her face. "I thought you'd forgotten," she admitted.

"You _hoped_ I'd forgotten," Lisa corrected. "I pretended to forget, because it made you uncomfortable. And could you please stop shuffling away to where I can't see you? It's not as if I can move my head to watch you."

"Sorry." Tosh stepped back into Lisa's eye line. "But I'm confused. If you remembered about…about Jack….why were you jealous of me?"

"Because he needs more than sex," Lisa answered bluntly. "He doesn't laugh with me anymore, and when he's sad now it's _because_ of me. And there's nothing I can do to make him feel better. But _you. _You make him smile, laugh even. And you can hold him when he needs it. I can't."

"But you will," Tosh insisted, wishing Ianto would come back so they could tell Lisa about Dr Tanizaki. "We'll get you out of this."

Lisa smiled. Tosh tried to remember if she'd always smiled that way, mouth curving, eyes still dull.

"And Ianto loves you," Tosh continued. "You're the most important person in the world to him. He'd do anything for you. Surely you know that."

"I do know that," Lisa said. "But sometimes I need reminding." She flexed her fingers. Tosh took the hint and reached for her hand. "Will you remind me, Tosh, when I need it?"

Tosh squeezed the cool hand within hers. "Of course I will."

Lisa smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes. "Shall we call him back, then?"

_Oh that was __**too**__ easy. _

_But she __**has **__helped me. It's a small reward to allow her back, especially when it keeps Ianto content. Poor sweet Ianto, how he needs to be needed. _

_What would Tosh say if she knew how __**much**__ she's helped? Every connection she tightened, every piece of programming she fixed,, every circuit she joined, all made the fusion more complete. Because of her, I am more than I was. More than human. Better than human._

_I don't think I'll tell her though. Not yet. She wouldn't understand._

_Ianto will understand, one day. And he won't need anything then. Except me._

_

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_

**Just a few more things to wrap up before Gwen arrives, so you can expect her in chapter 24 or thereabouts.**

**Thanks for reading**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you again to those people who pointed out my mistake with Saxon in the last chapter. (I made the mistake of assuming that because he gave the orders to destroy the Racnoss ship in 'Runaway Bride' that he was already the PM - of course he wasn't, silly me!)**

**Thank you for everyone who continues to read this. I adore your comments and appreciate your support.**

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Tosh smiled at the look on Ianto's face as he re-entered the basement. She still had her fingers curled around Lisa's, warm now in her grasp.

"Tosh forgave me," Lisa told him.

"Nothing to forgive," Tosh argued.

"Christmas presents." Ianto announced, eyes gleaming suspiciously. "Before this starts getting mushy."

Christmas carols played softly in the background. They exchanged gifts at the foot of the converter, where Lisa could see what emerged from the wrapping. A poor substitute for a Christmas tree. "But," Ianto pointed out, "There's an angel at the top of it."

"What was that about not getting mushy?" Tosh teased.

Lisa smiled. A smile of contentment, her eyes devouring Ianto.

The intensity of the stare made Tosh uncomfortable. The conversion unit kept Lisa's eyes lubricated, but Tosh still wished she'd blink more often. Maybe they should add it to the programming. After all, Lisa would have to interact with humans again someday, if Dr Tanizaki freed her. No _when _Dr Tanizaki freed her.

What else was bothering her about that thought? Tosh tracked her thought processes backwards, looking for the source of unease. There it was, poking up through her awareness like an iceberg, harmless on the surface, untold danger lurking beneath. Had she actually implied, even in her own mind, that Lisa wasn't human? Tosh shook her head, annoyed with herself. More than annoyed; disappointed. She really had been away from Lisa for too long. A tiny cough broke into her reverie, and Tosh looked up with a smile already on her face. Ianto, eyebrows raised above the questions in his eyes, offering a tiny package.

Tosh pulled off the wrapping to find a delicate silver locket, complete with a photo in each half. One was of her and Ianto. Their faces had that weirdly foreshortened look which often came from taking pictures of yourself with a camera on the end of an outstretched arm, but they were both smiling, cheeks pressed together to fit into the shot. The other half of the locket contained an 'eyes for no one but each other' picture of Ianto and Lisa in happier times. "So we remember what this is all for," Ianto explained.

A moment later Tosh was apologizing for how hard she'd hugged him. She'd made him squeak again.

He gave Lisa the same locket, in gold. And different photos, neither of which included Tosh.

Ianto draped the locket against his girlfriend's neck. It glowed against her skin, but clashed with the metal.

"God looks much better on you than silver," Ianto said.

Tosh turned away as Ianto lowered his lips to meet Lisa's, trying not to ache from the memory it raised. The memory of Owen's lips on hers, in that timeless moment before it all went wrong.

Tosh took her time retrieving the presents she'd brought, giving them their privacy. And so they wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. She didn't want to have to explain why she was crying, didn't even know if she could. Lisa might get the wrong idea again. So, presents.

Tosh's gift for Ianto was a thick leather-bound journal. "A diary," Ianto said, stroking the soft leather cover. "Protection against Retcon?"

"Not funny!" Tosh scolded.

Lisa laughed her breathy laugh.

"You both enjoy the photo albums so much," Tosh explained. "I thought you might like to write the memories down."

"Then you can read them to me," Lisa added eagerly.

Tosh smiled triumphantly. "Actually, I've worked out a way you can read them for yourself."

She'd racked her brains to think of something for Lisa. Something to while away the hours, she'd decided. Something that didn't involve the use of hands.

Her idea took technology, housebreaking and rule breaking. But she'd done it. It was a brilliant idea, even if she did say so herself.

Technology. One alien data recorder. And a projector.

Housebreaking. Two hours in Ianto's flat, one night while he was at the Hub, and the data recorder contained every one of Lisa's books. The ones in the box in Ianto's spare room. It wasn't really breaking in when she had a key to Ianto's flat, was it? And they all broke the rule about not taking artifacts out of the Hub, so that didn't really count. Especially now the recorder was back in the Hub. In the basement, admittedly. But still in the Hub.

Tosh took a moment to sigh for the Toshiko who'd been so frightened at the prospect of taking the data recorder home, the first time. She'd come so far since then, changed so much. And Tosh wasn't sure whether it was a change for the better. Then again, the Toshiko of all those months ago would have spent Christmas alone. So, back to the present. And the presents.

Lisa showed every sign of delight. They set the projector up within comfortable viewing range, clipped onto the converter itself. Its remote control sat beneath Lisa's hand. The text scrolled across the screen, unnerving in its speed. "Just browsing," Lisa assured them.

Tosh almost jiggled with impatience. "Skip ahead to T," she urged.

"T for Tanizaki?" Ianto guessed, his smile brightening the dingy basement.

They could tell when Lisa found the entry, by the way her cardiac monitor shrilled as her heartbeat accelerated.

"Did you find this, Tosh?" Lisa asked eventually.

"All by herself," Ianto answered, eyes shining. "She didn't even tell me until…" he looked at Tosh and frowned. "Two nights ago?"

Tosh nodded, radiating smugness.

"Hug her for me," Lisa ordered.

-XXX-

_She's good. She's __**very **__good. But she's unhappy. Ianto said so, and I can tell by the way she __**isn't**__ looking at him. I used to think she wanted him, when she looked like that, but Ianto explained. She wants what we have. What she thinks we have. What __**he**__ thinks we have._

_He'll understand soon enough. Sooner than I thought, given what Tosh found._

_Imagine what that brain of hers could do if it wasn't hampered by all that emotion._

-XXX-

Lisa's Christmas gift was proving very useful. They hooked Tosh's laptop to the projector, so that Lisa could have input into the message for Dr Tanizaki. Tosh's hands trembled as she typed. They were taking a huge risk, but they all agreed there was nothing else they could do. They finally had a version of the message they were all content with. Tosh didn't even want to look at the number of drafts they'd already deleted.

"Just give me few a minutes," Tosh muttered, her fingers flying. Finally she leaned back. "OK, I've encrypted the IP address. If he tries to trace it back it'll look as though it came from the public library."

"Brilliant, Toshiko," Lisa murmured. It was obvious she was tiring. Tosh decided she'd head back for the Hub as soon as the message was sent. Ianto would appreciate some time alone with Lisa.

Ianto was still frowning. "Email's good enough for initial contact," he conceded. "But I'm going to have to talk to him eventually."

"He's Japanese, Ianto," Tosh protested. "It makes more sense if I talk to him."

Ianto leaned back towards the screen. "The profile says he speaks fluent English," he pointed out, a stubborn tone in his voice. Tosh glanced at Lisa, shared an eye roll and stifled a giggle.

"But it'll probably be a good idea if you teach me some Japanese, too, just to make him a bit more comfortable."

Tosh let the laughter escape this time. "Japanese with a Welsh accent isn't comfortable hearing, Ianto. Trust me on that."

"Don't be so flippant, Tosh," Ianto warned. "This will be dangerous. Even just contacting Dr Tanizaki, not to mention getting him into the Hub without anyone noticing." His frown deepened. "No one can know you helped us."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "No, Tosh, if you're not going to get out of this, you have to let me protect you as much as I can, OK?"

Tosh nodded reluctantly. At least he'd given up on the Retcon idea. "All right," she conceded.

Lisa smiled. "Now that's sorted, send the message," she suggested. Her eyes swiveled to Ianto. "I want to be in your arms by Valentine's Day."

They were kissing again. And while she was happy for Ianto that Lisa was allowing the intimacy once more, Tosh was beginning to feel voyeuristic. And envious. She busied herself collecting the discarded wrapping. Maybe one day she'd be able to look back on last night and only remember the good. Laughing together as they lost the pool match so spectacularly. The feel of his arms around her. Maybe one days she'd forget how it ended. But not yet.

-XXX-

Owen woke up – somewhere. With – someone. A woman. Not bad looking, but he couldn't remember her name, or where he'd found her. Dr Harper diagnosed memory loss due to copious amounts of alcohol.

His head throbbed. Goddamned hangover. It hadn't even worked. He hadn't forgotten enough. When he closed his eyes he could still see Tosh fighting him, looking at him with hatred. It sickened him that he'd reminded Tosh so strongly of the creep who'd brutalized her. Couldn't risk that happening again. She'd put that all behind her, and she should to be with someone who didn't bring it all back. Someone undemanding. Someone she trusted. Someone like the Teaboy.

The woman beside him twitched in her sleep. Time to leave. Owen slid silently out of the bed and found his clothes. His wallet was still in his trousers, nothing missing except the condom. Not the first time survival instincts had overruled the booze.

Owen closed the door securely behind him and looked at his watch. Quiet street, but he could hear the sound of traffic not far away. He'd need a taxi if he was to have any hope of getting to his mother's place in time for lunch. A hangover she'd ignore, but God help him if he was late. Not that she'd wait lunch for him, but it'd ruin the symmetry of her table if someone was missing.

-XXX-

The grinding of gears signaling the activation of the invisible lift came as something of a relief.

"Jack's back," Tosh announced. "I'll go see what's happening."

"We're not supposed to be here," Ianto protested. "He gave everyone the day off."

Tosh waved a hand vaguely. "He knew we were monitoring all the goings-on in London. He'd expect at least one of us to hang around. Besides, you two lovebirds need some time alone."

A breathy giggle followed her out. It was odd though, how it felt as if she was escaping from something as she left the basement. How much worse, Tosh pondered, must it feel for Lisa?

Tosh made it into the main Hub before the lift finished descending. She waited at the foot, expecting Jack's usual greeting. Didn't get it.

Jack looked at her suspiciously, through puffy eyes. "Whatcha doing here, Tosh? Gave you the day off. Gave all of you the day off."

"After all that fuss last night, I thought someone should keep an eye on things," Tosh answered.

Jack's breath swirled over her as Tosh helped him off the lift platform. And he needed the help. He was swaying on his feet. Tosh tried very hard not to breathe. Jack reeked of alcohol. It didn't make sense. Jack hardly ever drank. She'd never seen him drunk before in all the years she'd known him.

Jack waved an expansive arm. "_I_ kept an eye on it. Both eyes. Didn't do any good. They shot it down. Just like last year." He stopped in his tracks, looking at her with the intensity only the very drunk can manage. "That's what Earth does. We see a spaceship and out come the big guns." He shook his head, so violently his whole body swayed again. Tosh grabbed his arm, scared he'd fall. Not only, she concluded, did he not drink very often, he wasn't used to being drunk, either. He actually looked surprised that he couldn't stand up straight.

"Where's Ianto?" Jack demanded, meeting her eyes anxiously. "I told him to look after you." Tosh shook her head. The two of them were utterly hopeless. _Nearly as bad as you and Owen _an inner voice chided.

"He's….he's not far. Let's get you into your office, Jack, and then I'll call him."

"He'll have to get me a new phone," Jack explained, digging his out of his pocket. Tosh looked at the shattered mass of plastic and circuitry and shook her head.

"How did you do that, Jack?" she asked. The Torchwood phones were tough little gadgets. Hers had been dropped countless times, sometimes into the depths of alien goo. Owen's on one memorable occasion had to be retrieved during an autopsy. She'd never seen one so badly damaged.

"I was talking to the Prime Minister when Unit fired," Jack confided, leaning heavily on her supporting arm as Tosh led him towards his office. "And it was all a ploy, the PM keeping me occupied while that snaky Defense Minister gave the orders." He scowled heavily. "Don't trust that Saxon."

Tosh nearly laughed. She knew Jack had a healthy sense of his own importance but surely this was stretching it, - the PM and the Defense Minister conspiring to keep him busy! And Minister Saxon was one of the good ones.

"And we say Torchwood's here to protect Earth from _them_," Jack continued. "Should be the other way 'round. We're vicious, we are." He paused, seemingly collecting his thoughts. "Not _we_. You. Not me. You're a nasty lot, you are." He giggled, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Shouldn't have said that. Don't tell anyone. Secret."

Tosh seized on the only part that made sense. "But, Jack," she protested, "They drained the Thames." They were at the office door, and just as well. If he didn't sit down soon, he'd fall down, and Tosh didn't think she was up to the task of getting him back up. And she _really _wanted to get away from his breath. She was feeling intoxicated just from inhaling. "That doesn't sound very friendly to me," Tosh concluded, as she finally maneuvered him into the vicinity of his chair.

Jack collapsed onto the seat with an uncoordinated thump. "Wasn't them," he mumbled, dropping his head into his hands. "Wasn't _them._ That was _him._ And the Prime Minister kept me busy and _I missed him_. He's _gone_."

Tosh watched Jack's shoulders start to shake with something approaching horror. Jack didn't do this. "Is there anything I can do, Jack?" she asked uncertainly, a hand hovering over his shoulder.

"Just go, Toshiko," Jack pleaded, sounding very small, very weak, and more sober than he had since he'd arrived. "Go home. You shouldn't….I don't want….Just forget you saw me."

Tosh left him in his office. But she didn't go home. Jack needed someone who could help him. Someone he'd _let _help him. He needed Ianto.

They watched Jack from somewhere near the entry. The alarm blared as the cog rolled back. Jack turned his head briefly, before letting it drop into his hands again. Waste of time, really, going through the motions of triggering the cog. Jack was in no state to analyze where Ianto had spent Christmas.

"I hope he didn't drive back from London like that," Ianto said, watching Jack's head slump back down onto his arms.

He was angry, Tosh could tell that just from the way he was standing, feet squared, arms crossed.

"It's fairly late," she pointed out. "He could have been back for hours."

Ianto made a sound that Tosh would have called a snort, if Ianto wasn't too cultured for that.

Tosh gave him one of _those_ looks. "There's more to this than alcohol, Ianto. He was babbling about … someone, I don't know who, but someone he missed, someone that left while he was trying to sort out the aliens last night. And," she added significantly, "It's stopped glowing." She gestured at the shelves near the entry.

Jack's treasured hand floated gently in its fluid. The usual soft glow, now. No sign of the frantic activity of the previous night.

Ianto glanced at the artifact then back at Tosh. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Tosh ran her fingers distractedly through her hair. "I don't know, but it has to be connected, don't you think? Jack was so upset on the phone last night, when we told him how the artifact was reacting, and now _this._"

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Ianto asked, leaning back against a wall, arms still wrapped defensively around his chest.

Tosh sighed. If it was anyone else, he'd be in there already.

"The same thing you'd do for anyone else," she said softly. "Jack needs help, Ianto."

"Lisa needs help too," Ianto muttered. "And _her _miseries aren't self-inflicted."

"She's asleep," Tosh pointed out, keeping her voice low too, as they always did when they mentioned Lisa in range of the CCTV. "And she won't be alone. I'll stay with her. But I can't help Jack."

"And I can?" Ianto scoffed.

Tosh felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Jack needed to be undressed, cleaned. Tosh was sure that wouldn't be unfamiliar territory for Ianto but she was damned if she was going to say it - and he knew it.

"You're a lot stronger than I am," Tosh answered eventually. "And…and ….you're a man."

A flicker of a grin chased across her friend's face. "Don't tell Lisa you noticed that, OK?"

"She knows," Tosh pointed out. "She's done the jealousy thing, and she's over it. Now please, Ianto, go sort our boss out."

It helped, bringing in the 'boss' bit. Ianto's shoulders slumped slightly. Whatever internal battle he was waging, it was over.

Tosh turned towards the archives as Ianto trudged into Jack's office. But she couldn't resist glancing over her shoulder. Jack's head lifted as Ianto approached. It was almost as though he'd known who it was, just from the footsteps.

Tosh couldn't hear what they were saying, but she didn't need to. Ianto walked around the desk and Jack spun in his chair to meet him. His head sunk solidly into Ianto's chest, his arms locked around Ianto's waist, and Tosh turned away from something that had become too private to watch.

But even from the archives Tosh could hear the echoes of broken-hearted sobbing.

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**Apologies in advance because updates will be even slower from now on, as I'll need to watch the episodes as I write - because as promised Gwen will arrive in the next chapter.**

**Thank you all for hanging in there! **


	24. Chapter 24

**I know this has been a long wait but it's a monstrously long chapter so I hope that makes up for it. I really should have split it but it's done soooooo...anyway hope you like it.**

**I try not to make author notes too long, generally, BUT having reached the milestone of 100 reviews, along with the milestone of finally taking this fic into series 1, it feels appropriate to pause for thanks. **

**First, my deepest gratitude to brionyjae, for reviewing every chapter, especially the early ones while the story was still finding its feet. Without you this fic would have sunk into oblivion (HUGGLES).  
****I don't own Torchwood or the characters. If I did, I'd give Tosh to deetatarant, with thanks for all the lovely comments; I'd give Owen to stossle because without her he'd never have gotten that kiss; brionyjae could take her pick of Jack or Ianto (I'd keep the other); and I'd give Suzie to Mirumo because reviewer 100 deserves something and she'd treat her better than I have. The rest of you can have a ride on Myfanwy!**

**(Gwen stays with Rhys, whoever wants them has to take them a set. )**

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Tosh frequently looked back on that Christmas as the time when Everything Changed. In capital letters. Everything Changed, during those few short weeks, the lead up to that crazy Christmas and the time when everyone drifted back to the Hub.

She watched them drift back, these people she worked with. More accurate to call them the people she lived with, given they only left each other to sleep. Sometimes not even that. Worked with, lived with, and she'd probably die with them, too, given Torchwood's history. They worked as a team, but they weren't really. Just a bunch of misfits, trying to fit in together because none of them fitted anywhere else. The ties they formed didn't last. They were allies perhaps, but not really friends.

Except for Tosh and Ianto, of course.

But that wouldn't last either. Nothing lasts. Everything changes.

Suzie and Owen hadn't lasted. Just convenience. Friends with benefits, Owen said. An itch scratched. Maybe Suzie still felt the itch, but Owen had gone in search of new sources of relief. It chilled Tosh sometimes, when she wondered if that's all she would have been if things hadn't gone so spectacularly wrong on Christmas Eve. Just someone new to scratch the itch that Suzie didn't satisfy anymore. She'd never know, now. Tosh and Owen hadn't lasted either. A spark that glowed and died to ashes before it had a chance to burn.

Tosh and Ianto wouldn't last. When Dr Tanizaki freed Lisa from the converter, Ianto would vanish with her. Jack would try to find him, for the sake of protocol if nothing else, and if he could trace Ianto, he'd find Lisa. So Ianto would have leave no trace – and that meant cutting all ties to family - and friends. Tosh would never see him or speak to him again.

Tosh understood that, and agreed with it. Which didn't mean either of them had to _like _it.

So they were making the most of the time they had left, and it was _fun. _

As they'd both ending up working on Christmas Day, technically their day off, Jack told them not to come in on Boxing Day. At the time, it was fairly obvious he just didn't want to have to deal with either of them, given the state they'd seen him in. Not to mention whatever had happened between Jack and Ianto after Tosh had escaped into the basement to keep Lisa company. Which Ianto _hadn't_ mentioned, come to think of it. Tosh was confident she'd find out though, at some point during their day off.

_Their_ day off. Together. With Lisa's blessing, which lifted the cloud of guilt Ianto would have felt for daring to have fun without her. And what else do friends do on Boxing Day except hit the sales? The perfect opportunity for Ianto to buy what they'd need for their new life. Tosh remembered laughing that much with her friends, as a teenager. Yes, that long ago. Precious little to laugh about since.

They'd teased each other into purchases neither would have made on their own. Tosh loved the knee length leather jacket she would never have splurged on without Ianto's urging. It had hurt just a bit when Ianto had urged her into trying on a pretty mauve dress 'for next time you see Tommy' because of the reminder that Ianto wouldn't be there to see her wearing it. But when that day came, and she didn't have to panic about what to wear, she'd remember her best friend, and this day that felt like goodbye.

As for Ianto, Tosh knew he'd still insist on wearing those boring white shirts to work, but a silken rainbow waited in his wardrobe, ready to be packed. In his new life, Ianto wouldn't have to blend into the background anymore. Tosh knew he'd remember laughing his way through the sales with her whenever he wore them, just as Tosh did whenever she slid her arms into her new jacket.

It was something cheerful to remember whenever she thought about how empty her life would be after he'd gone.

She'd dared to hope, once, that Owen would fill that void. More than fill it. But Everything Changed.

Tosh's first few hours back at work were uncomfortable. Not even painful, just hindering bloody awkward. Ianto was in the archives, or possibly the basement. Jack hadn't come out of his office all day. And Tosh was sitting only a desk away from Owen, both of them staring at their screens, fingers idle on their keyboards. Neither willing to say anything, given the way Suzie was watching from her workstation. Helmet and blowtorch were markedly absent today and her eyes were alight with curiosity.

Owen probably thought Tosh would burst into tears if he fled into the autopsy bay. And he was right. She would have. But if something didn't break the tension soon, she might just cry anyway.

Tosh had begun to pray for a Rift alert when Ianto arrived with the coffee tray. Owen even smiled at him. Owen noticing the existence of the Teaboy, an event of epic proportions.

Ianto had more than coffee for Owen's desk. Two blister-packs of pills and a carafe of water. Owen's eyes narrowed, surprised and suspicious.

"You're still hung-over," Ianto commented neutrally. He'd know, of course. 'Bloody Teaboy knows everything,' to quote the doctor himself. But if Ianto was right, given it was now the 27th, Owen had been on a two-day bender. Ouch.

Owen flicked a glance at Tosh. She was facing her screen, but watching them out of the corner of her eye. And straining her ears to catch every word. "I had my reasons," Owen mumbled.

Was it really_ really_ wrong to wonder, maybe even hope, she'd been one of them?

Ianto followed Owen's gaze and the ramrod stiffness of his spine relaxed slightly. "Aspirin," Ianto announced, tapping one of the packets, "for the headache. Water, for the dehydration, and B12, for the rest."

Owen continued to eye him suspiciously.

"It's the nearest you'll get to an apology," Ianto said stiffly.

Owen rubbed the corner of his mouth, where the memory of Ianto's fist lingered. He should be angry, he reflected. But when he closed his eyes he still saw Tosh, frightened and shrinking away from him. And all he could feel towards the Teaboy was gratitude for helping Tosh after he'd messed up so badly.

"Good right hook," Owen commented.

"Grew up on the estates," Ianto answered.

Tosh could _feel _the testosterone flowing off them both. Men! They'd probably been less tense when they were rolling around on the ground trying to punch each others lights out.

Owen examined the packets of pills, swigged some down with the water, then swiveled in his chair to face Ianto completely.

"Can you really shoot straight?" he demanded.

Ianto shrugged. "So Jack said."

Owen nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Prove it to me in the shooting range and maybe I won't bitch so hard next time Jack offers to send you out as my backup."

Suzie sniffed and unpacked her blowtorch.

Tosh didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Ianto's expression of astonishment was really very funny, mostly because he so seldom let that mask slip. But Tosh knew, too, why Owen wanted the option of Ianto as back up. Owen didn't want to be alone with Tosh anymore. Even for work. And he'd made sure his voice carried, that time.

Message received loud and clear, Tosh thought bitterly. Ianto's hand rested on her shoulder as he delivered her coffee. Owen made his escape to the autopsy bay. Tosh told herself it was childish to hope he splashed his coffee on himself as he hurried down the staircase. But really, what _was_ it with him? He was as bad as Jack. Worse. He'd already worked his way through both female members of the team. Was he going to move on to Ianto now? The bitterness of her own thoughts was shocking. God help her, she was turning into Suzie. Except Suzie didn't have Ianto.

"Give him time, Cariad," Ianto murmured.

Tosh couldn't answer. Tears closed her throat and burned behind her eyes. Ianto's arm slid around her shoulders.

From Jack's office, the sound a throat being cleared. Loudly.

Ianto straightened. His arm dropped away. "Guess he wants his coffee."

Tosh smiled. "Not very subtle, is he?" But she couldn't help feeling just a tiny bit of sympathy – possibly even empathy – for the Captain.

Because Jack and Ianto hadn't lasted, either. And it occurred to Tosh that maybe it wasn't completely Owen's idea that he take over Ianto's firearms training. Jack wouldn't want Ianto as his backup any more than Owen wanted Tosh. What a bloody mess.

Ianto _had_ told her about it, of course. During lunch on Boxing Day. She'd been dying to know, and made no secret of it. Her last glimpse of them in Jack's office had touched her to the core. They way Jack had clung to Ianto, the way Ianto held him. Not the actions of two men who were using each other. No words could describe it except ones Ianto would cringe from. Jack too, most likely. Tender. Caring. There'd been affection in that embrace, maybe something more.

"It's over," Ianto said shortly, finally crumbling beneath the avalanche of unsubtle hints. "I broke it off, whatever the hell it was."

"Why?" she'd asked. Because he needed to tell someone, and who else was there? Besides, she wanted to know.

"Because he trusts me." At which point Ianto gulped too-hot coffee and swore savagely in Welsh. Then he'd apologized to the two old dears at the next table and dragged Tosh back off to the shops.

Later, he'd bought a red shirt without prompting. Tosh wouldn't be the only one Ianto remembered when he wore his new shirts, in his new life.

They hadn't mentioned Jack since. No need to. Tosh understood. Ianto was betraying Jack on two levels. Not just as the head of Torchwood, but as a person too. He had to keep deceiving Torchwood's boss for Lisa's sake, but he _could_ stop deceiving Jack, the man who trusted him. The man he cared for, even though he'd never admit it. And Ianto would be gone soon, with Lisa, so what did it matter?

Only, it did matter, Tosh knew. It mattered to Jack. He still watched Ianto, but there was a different sort of hunger in his eyes, along with confusion, and he'd pull his gaze away whenever he realized what he was doing. More habit than hope. Tosh suspected her own face looked like that when Owen's back was turned. So she couldn't help feeling sorry for Jack. From his perspective, he'd been dumped for showing Ianto his vulnerable side. For trusting him. And Jack didn't trust easily.

But what could she do? Her loyalty was to Ianto. And Lisa.

-XXX-

The Rift settled after the frantic pre-Christmas activity. It was almost domestic in the Hub. Owen caught up on a backlog of autopsies. Tosh sunk herself into her translation project, which incidentally gave her an excuse to spend time in the archives, researching alien linguistics. Being in different parts of the Hub for most of the day made it easier to maintain a professional detachment when they had to work together.

Jack moved the 'hand' back into his office and could be seen contemplating it for hours. The haunted look in his eyes ensured no one disturbed him.

Ianto only emerged from the archives when ordered. Tosh knew he spent as much time beneath the archives as he did in them, making up for the nights he couldn't be there. His usual excuse for spending nights at the Hub was gone, and he couldn't allow Jack to find him lingering there after-hours any more. Not when they were so close to escape.

Ianto and Dr Tanizaki exchanged regular emails now. It had taken a while for the elderly doctor to believe this wasn't a prank, but they were slowly building trust.

Tosh nudged the team back into their routine of weekly 'drinks after work'. It gave Ianto at least one night a week with Lisa. Tosh slipped away to joined them in the basement sometimes, especially when Dr Tanizaki's questions became technical. And to give Ianto those Japanese lessons.

Suzie used the lull to indulge her fascination with the alien knife. The mere sight of it made Tosh shudder. It was a thing of nightmares, that knife, all curved blades and sharp points. Suzie announced over lunch one day that it was made from the same material as the glove, and her eyes lit as she expounded her theory that the two artifacts were linked.

"I'm sure," agreed Owen, "Bound to be." He grinned across at Tosh and she rolled her eyes in return.

"You mean apart from the likelihood they were made on the same planet?" Ianto enquired politely. Tosh bit back a laugh at the sarcasm beneath the innocent enquiry.

Suzie glared at Ianto and left the boardroom in a huff.

That was another thing that had changed. After Ianto delivered their meals, he stayed to eat with them. Tosh didn't know whose idea it was, but she liked it. Ianto capped Owen's insults and ignored Jack's innuendoes and escaped back down to the archives at the first opportunity.

Owen started talking to Tosh again, at least when they couldn't avoid it. It was better than the awkward silences. He didn't raise the subject of Christmas Eve, so Tosh didn't either. If he wanted to pretend the whole evening had vanished in an alcoholic mist, she was fine with that. Maybe they could be friends again. Tosh told herself that would be enough. And she almost believed it.

Until Ianto mentioned that the alien pheromone spray was missing again.

-XXX-

Tosh crawled over the remains of the crashed spaceship, removing anything that looked interesting. Suzie had already finished the same task on the other side and taken her haul back to the SUV. Most of the craft was beyond salvage. Owen was trying to save the pilot, but it didn't sound promising given the profanities floating up from where the doctor worked frantically over his patient.

Ianto's voice sounded in their ears. "Police are reporting another murder. Should I advise them we're attending, Sir?"

Suzie's ears pricked up. Literally. Tosh could see it from her position on top of the spacecraft.

"I'm not needed here, am I Jack?" Suzie asked eagerly. "And the glove's in the back of the SUV."

Jack frowned. Suzie shrugged. "I didn't have time to lock it away, so I brought it," she said defensively.

"You can't go alone," Jack told Suzie. They all knew why. She'd pushed herself too far last time, trying to extend the glove's effect beyond the two minute barrier, and she'd collapsed.

"I can't leave him," Owen protested instantly, looking at the patient beneath his hands.

Tosh contemplated being alone with Owen and panicked. "I'll go with Suzie," she offered, scrambling back to the ground.

Ianto arranged for a car to pick them up. One of his vast list of service providers that could be paid enough not to ask questions. Suzie and Tosh sank into the soft leather seats and smiled at each other in appreciation of this small piece of luxury.

The sky blazed briefly behind them as Jack incinerated the remains of the ruined craft.

Snuggling back into the soft seat, Tosh listened idly to the comm chatter and smiled as she heard Jack tell Ianto he could go home. He'd be able to spend the night with Lisa. She pulled out her PDA and watched smugly until their rogue GPS echo device mimicked Ianto's car setting off for his flat. Tosh loved that gadget. She'd have to remember to dismantle it before Ianto left.

-XXX-

The hired car swept away. A luxury car, with chauffer. Discretion had a price and Torchwood paid it. No reason to reject the perks that came with the cost.

Owen's eyes followed the sleek vehicle while his hands ran the scanner over his patient. "Couldn't get away fast enough, could she?" he mumbled. Jack was fairly sure Owen hadn't meant to say that out loud, so he ignored it.

"So much for being inconspicuous," Jack noted instead. The press would have a field day when a gleaming black Mercedes drew up at the murder scene, but it had happened before with no fallout. Ianto took care of it. Probably had a standard press release.

"Says the man who had the logo of a secret organization printed on the car," Owen shot back. "Bugger. No life signs. I've lost him."

"You can't save them all," Jack answered. "At least we didn't kill this one ourselves." He looked down at the corpse and sighed. "Do you want to take him back for autopsy?"

"Might as well," Owen agreed.

Jack tapped his earpiece, opening the comm. channel. "Ianto."

"Yes, Sir."

"We're done here."

"Shall I prepare a cell?" Ianto enquired. "Or the med bay?"

Jack sighed. "Neither. We lost the alien. Too badly injured. How's the cover story going?"

"In place," Ianto answered. "We lost a weather satellite last year. It's now officially re-entered the atmosphere and crashed in Cardiff."

"I've already incinerated it," Jack said.

"Re-entry damage is inevitable," Ianto confirmed.

"Well done," Jack acknowledged. "We're on our way back now. Go home."

"Thank you, Sir. Goodnight, Owen."

"G'night, Teaboy."

Jack stowed his earpiece away and looked curiously at Owen. "Polite of you," he noted.

"Mother would be proud of me manners." Owen eyed his boss defiantly and went smoothly into defensive mode. "And what about you, giving him an early mark."

Jack met his gaze steadily across the alien corpse as they lifted it. "Why not? You won't be doing the autopsy tonight. He can prep the bay tomorrow."

"I thought," Owen said idly, as they placed the alien carefully into the back of the SUV. "that you'd rather keep him at the Hub." His face twisted into a leer. "Stress relief."

Jack's lack of response brought Owen's head snapping up, a hound on the scent. Tosh had fled from his arms to Ianto's. That hurt, on levels he didn't want to acknowledge. But it wouldn't be so hard to recover from the gouge in his pride, if there was a matching wound in Jack's ego. And damned if he wasn't developing a conscience, but he wanted Jack's hooks out of the Teaboy. Not that he liked the suit-wearing wimp, of course he didn't. But Tosh needed him.

Owen paused, savoring the release of his own frustration too much to care what it did to Jack. "Or are you sick of your new toy already?"

Jack slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut in a way that salved Owen's pride instantly. "Joint decision," he announced. The engine caught with a roar.

Owen fastened his seatbelt, carefully not looking across at Jack, delicately preparing the scalpel of his wit for a clean, deep incision. "As in, his and Toshiko's?"

Jack stared through the windscreen, concentrating on the road as he drove too fast through the Cardiff dusk. Wishing devoutly that Owen didn't know him so well. What he had to say would hurt Owen, too. And while Jack took occasional pleasure in making the other man squirm, well, this was different. Because Tosh was different.

"She stayed at the Hub with him, Christmas night."

Owen inhaled sharply. "Rubbed your nose in it, did they?"

Jack shrugged. "Didn't see them. She watched the Rift Christmas Day, he came in later. But I would have heard the cog if they'd left. Either of them."

They didn't mention how intently Jack would have been listening for it. That way lay madness. They didn't do jealousy, either of them. Easy come, easy go. The only way to cope with lives that, basically, sucked. Especially after a taste of something, some_one_, who might have made a difference. Or could have been dragged down into the morass with them, of course. Misery loves company, after all.

Streetlights flashed past, streaking their faces with the silver tracks of tears neither would ever shed.

They stowed the alien away in silence and scrutinized each other as the body clanked away to the morgue. Owen would retrieve it tomorrow, grateful for the overnight hiatus that changed it from a lost patient to an interesting dissection.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of Myfanwy cooing to herself in her sleep.

"I don't get it," Owen said, frustration clear in his voice.

"They probably don't either." Jack's attempt at humor fell sadly flat.

"Leave 'em to it, I reckon," Owen suggested. "Whatever it is."

Jack gave a shrug that would have been nonchalant if his shoulders weren't quite so stiff. "Like you said, game over," he agreed.

"Time to find some new toys, then?" Owen offered, squaring his shoulders.

Jack looked across sharply. Owen met his gaze with one equally hollow.

"Might as well," Jack agreed. He smiled a tight smile. "Just like the good old days?

They cleaned up and hit the bars together. They drank, they danced, and they picked up. They left separately, but not alone. Later they each crept out of strange beds before the nameless person beside them woke. Two men reconnecting with their inner bastard, trying to erase the glimpse they'd had of a better person lurking inside.

-XXX-

"Poor dear," Tosh said, kneeling beside the corpse. "Seventy-two years old. Surely if you've made it that far you're entitled to go in your sleep."

Suzie sniffed, taking her position. "Sarah, wasn't it?"

The elderly woman gasped hoarsely as her eyes opened.

"Am I dying?" she whimpered, staring at the wound in her chest.

"You're dead, Sarah," Suzie answered bluntly. Tosh cringed at the terror in the woman's eyes.

"You've got two minutes," Tosh told her, using the numbers to hide from the horror.

Tosh was fighting tears by the time Sarah Pallister sank back into death. Two short minutes filled with a tortured litany of the things Sarah hadn't done, the apologies she hadn't made.

"I wouldn't have minded the waffle so much," Suzie said in frustration, "if we could've gotten past the two minutes."

"She was frightened," Tosh protested, remembering why she'd never liked Suzie.

"Didn't get a single useful word out of her," Suzie grumbled. She lowered Sarah's head to the floor then turned to pack away the glove. Tosh couldn't help noticing that the glove received far gentler treatment than the corpse.

"Maybe if you weren't quite so blunt," Tosh suggested. _Maybe if you'd showed her a shred of respect._

Suzie rolled her eyes. "You do the talking next time, if you think you can do better. It might help the connection with the glove if I don't have anything to distract me."

-XXX-

Suzie directed the driver to drop Toshiko off at her flat. She knew, really, that they both should go back to the Hub. But Suzie couldn't wait to be rid of Toshiko tonight. Couldn't wait to rid herself of the contempt in that gaze. She'd felt sorry for Toshiko plenty of times, but she'd never liked her. Pitied her, perhaps, for her tiny view of the world – of the _universe_. Despaired of her clinical take on the marvels that dropped through the Rift. Geek. Child of the Information Age. Tosh looked at pieces of a miracle and saw circuits and wires. Press button A, obtain result B. Black and white. No sense of wonder. No notion of the _possibilities_.

Toshiko practically leapt out of the car. Not that Suzie blamed her. You didn't knock back the opportunity to get home at a rational hour in Torchwood. Suzie leaned back in her seat and sighed. She ought to go back to the Hub. Archive the glove. File the report. But it was the Pilgrim meeting tonight, and she hadn't seen Max last week. She didn't think it would be a good idea to miss another night with him. Might ruin everything she'd worked towards for so long. Suzie knocked on the panel between her and the chauffer and gave him her address.

It would be OK. She'd taken the glove home before. It was safe with her. They fitted together, she and the glove. No one else understood it, not even Jack.

No one would know she hadn't taken it back to the Hub. Well, except Ianto, and he wouldn't say anything. Hardly said anything, that one. No better than Toshiko, when you thought about it. If Toshiko saw the world in bits and bytes, Ianto saw it in alphabetical order. Did his job well though, she had to admit. It had never been so easy to find what you were looking for in the Hub. And he didn't cut corners. Hired nice cars, made decent coffee. And even Suzie had to admit he was easy on the eye.

The Mercedes deposited her outside her flat. Suzie froze as the door opened. Her lounge room was a mess. Lamp knocked over. A vase smashed, the flowers scattered across the carpet. Suzie stowed the case containing the glove carefully by the door and drew her gun, smiling grimly. If there was an intruder, she might get the chance to use the glove again, tonight. She slid inside, feeling a twinge of regret that she hadn't brought the knife home, too. But it was in the sterilizer. You never knew what tests Jack might order. No way was she risking leaving DNA on the blade.

Suzie stepped inside, gun poised, and lowered it with a laugh. No intruder, except of the feathered variety. She must have left a window open somewhere. A sparrow had gotten in and beat itself to death trying to get out, poor thing. Well, Suzie Costello could fix that.

The broken wings flapped against the fingers of the glove. Suzie laughed again, a joyful sound. She'd never wanted to be a mother, not since she'd started at Torchwood, but she thought now that she understood how it felt to give birth. She'd given life so many times. Many more than she'd taken. And those had been sacrificed for the greater good. The pursuit of life. Life was all.

Suzie opened a window and laid the bird on the sill. It took flight, testing its wings, just a short hop to the front lawn, a scrabble in the grass. The early bird getting the worm.

There was a thump, a squall, a flutter. The neighbor's cat streaked away with its prize flapping in its jaws. Suzie slammed the window shut and went to the Pilgrim meeting. She needed to talk to Max.

-XXX-

The whole team was there next time, forming a loose ring around the corpse. Owen had a new scanner he wanted to use, recording the physical evidence of the life they'd dragged back.

"Rani Gosh," Ianto informed them over the comm. "Forty-five years old."

Suzie knelt in the alley, carefully unpacking the glove. It had been raining. The body lay sprawled against a building, reddened water pooling beneath.

"Decided what you're going to say, Toshiko?" Suzie asked.

Jack eyed them curiously. "Toshiko is concerned I'm being mean to the stiffs," Suzie answered. "So she's doing the talking this time."

"You terrified that poor old woman," Tosh answered, not bothering to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. Suzie's lack of compassion sickened Tosh almost as much as the look on her face as the glove worked through her. An expression uncomfortably close to lust. It made Tosh's stomach churn, quite frankly. And after all these years with Torchwood, Tosh had a strong stomach.

Owen activated his scanner. "Ready," he announced.

Suzie cupped her hand beneath the woman's head.

Rani Gosh shuddered back into consciousness. The scanner hummed.

"Nice one," Owen commented. "Stabbed through the heart and she's still got a heartbeat."

Tosh glared at him.

"I'm just saying," he commented innocently. "Bit weird, don't you think?"

"Two minutes," Suzie announced. "Let's see if we can do better this time."

Rani's eyes fixed on Tosh, who was nearest to her face. "What's happening?" she whispered. Then she caught sight of her own bloodstained shirt. "Oh, God," she whimpered.

"You've been stabbed," Tosh answered. She leaned closer. "Can you remember who did it? Man or woman? What did they look like?"

"God, look at the blood," Rani shrieked. Her hands clawed at Tosh, cold and clammy, sending a shiver through her totally unrelated to the damp alley. "Do something."

"That's working _so _much better," Suzie said, dripping sarcasm. "Thirty seconds."

"Get me an ambulance," the woman screamed. "I'm going to die."

Owen leaned over and detached the hands from Tosh's arm. "I'm a doctor," he announced. "And I'm good, too. It doesn't hurt, does it?"

Rani stared at him, wide eyed. "I can't feel _anything_," she whispered. She tried to push herself up. "What've you done to me? Let me go."

Jack hadn't said a word, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. Tosh alternated between fury and wishing the Rift would open up and swallow her. Then again, maybe it didn't do that from this end. She'd only ever seen drop-offs, not pickups.

"Sixty seconds," Suzie reported. Sweat began to bead along her forehead. "She's fighting it."

"Help me," Rani whimpered. "Get me someone else." She thrashed again, freeing an arm and grabbing at Owen. "What sort of doctor _are _you? You aren't even trying to stop the bleeding."

"You aren't bleeding, love," Owen answered, pulling himself free of the clammy grasp and ducking back as the woman reached desperately towards him again. Not fast enough. A flailing hand connected with the side of Owen's head.

"Bloody hell," Owen grumbled, rubbing his head. "First the Teaboy, now the corpse."

"Corpse?" gasped Rani.

"Ten seconds."

"You don't need a doctor, sweetheart. You need a coroner. Which, come to think of it, is me, in this case. Multi-talented, I am."

"Owen!" Tosh snapped.

"She's going," Suzie announced, her face twisting with effort.

"It's so dark." The wail cut off abruptly.

"Two minutes exactly," Suzie sighed and pulled the glove away. There was a dull smack of bone hitting concrete.

"What a debacle," Owen announced.

"So much for not frightening her," Suzie commented.

"I thought it'd help," Tosh mumbled. Her cheeks heated up. Debacle pretty much covered it. Rani had been even more scared than Sarah.

"Respect for the dead, hmm?" Jack said, grinning.

"Well, it wouldn't kill you!" Tosh flared, immediately regretting her choice of words.

"Oh now that's just tasteless," Owen objected. "Given the corpse just had a damn good go." But he was smiling too.

"Don't worry Owen," Suzie said brightly. "If she had, there's always the glove. And then Toshiko could talk soothingly to you. That'd be worth dying for, wouldn't it?" The blush spread to Tosh's neck. If she hadn't dropped her head to hide it, she'd have noticed Owen's cheeks turning the exact same shade. Suzie chuckled.

"I've seen a lot of things," Jack mused. "But Owen being punched by a cadaver does stand out. Thanks for that, Toshiko."

"You're welcome," Tosh answered automatically. Jack snickered. Could this get any worse? They were_ all_ laughing at her.

"I'm not going to say a word next time," Tosh vowed, getting up. "You're horrible, the lot of you."

"Oh yes you will," Jack called, as she stormed off to the SUV. "And you love us anyway."

-XXX-

"They were laughing at me," Tosh complained into the phone. She was in the bath, with a ridiculous amount of bubbles. Including the sort you drank. It hadn't helped much. Ianto wasn't helping either.

"So did I," he admitted. "I had to mute the comm." Tosh could hear the whoosh of the respirator in the background. She was on speakerphone. At least Lisa wasn't laughing. Yet.

"I suppose Lisa thought it was hilarious too," Tosh muttered.

"I did," Lisa confirmed. "Ianto had to turn the oxygen up after he told me about the victim punching Owen."

Tosh finally gave in. Lisa using the word _victim_ helped a bit. "That _was_ kind of funny," she admitted. The champagne was helping her see the lighter side. "I really stuffed up, didn't I?"

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Ianto soothed. "It was the first mission you've led, after all."

Tosh waited for the sentence to make sense, but it couldn't get past the bubbles. "Huh?"

"They sat back and let you do it your way," Ianto pointed out. "Even though it obviously wasn't the way they'd have done it." The slightest tinge of bitterness soured his tone. "How's it feel being an equal?"

There was a fizzing in Tosh's head that wasn't from the bubbles, as she put it all together. It had been a long time, she realized, since either Suzie or Owen had given her anything remotely resembling an order. How about that? She'd graduated to full field agent and hadn't even noticed.

"Wonder if I'll get a pay-rise?" she mused.

Ianto chuckled. "I wouldn't push it, given the way today went."

"They've accepted me," Tosh said wonderingly. Acceptance wasn't quite the same as friendship, but it would do. It would have to, after…..

"Perfect timing, too," Lisa put in brightly. "You'll hardly even miss us when we're gone."

The whoosh of the respirator filled the silence.

"You've got something to tell me?" Tosh prompted. Odd, she'd worked towards this for so long, but the prospect of something actually happening took her breath away. She didn't know if it was nerves or excitement – or dread. "Tell me," she insisted.

"I spoke to Dr Tanizaki tonight," Ianto said. "He'll be here next month."

The prospect of a pay rise suddenly didn't seem important anymore.

-XXX-

"Tosh raised a good point, though," Jack insisted.

They were on their way to another murder. John Tucker, nineteen years old. So young. At least the others had a chance to grow, maybe fall in love, make mistakes. But at least they'd had the chance. Nineteen. Too young.

The glove nestled in its case, strapped into the back seat between Tosh and Suzie.

"We have to be nicer to dead people?" Suzie scoffed. "Should we bring flowers next time?" She smirked across the case at Tosh, inviting a response.

Tosh shook her head and turned towards the window, watching the rain splatter against the glass. If she ignored the teasing they might stop. Apparently being accepted as an equal by Suzie and Owen meant regular insults. At school, they'd call it bullying. In Torchwood, it was acceptance. Just more proof of how seriously twisted the whole organization was. Or at least the members of it, which amounted to the same thing.

"I meant," Jack said, "that stressing them out can't be helping."

"They're dead, Jack," Owen objected. "It's not like we can raise their blood pressure, is it." Suzie chuckled. Tosh tucked herself deeper into the corner of her seat, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the glove.

Ianto opened a private comm channel and murmured soothingly at her. It helped. She was going to miss him so much. But he'd be happy. That was all that mattered, wasn't it? Lisa would make him happy.

The tone of the conversation in the car changed, became more serious. They might actually be discussing strategy. Tosh focused back on the discussion, hoping she hadn't missed anything important.

"You might be right," Suzie said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's possible that they'd last longer if they were calm."

"Agreed then?" Jack asked."

"Whatever," Owen sounded bored. Strategy obviously wasn't as interesting as verbal dueling.

"Toshiko?" Tosh was glad they could see her blushing as she mumbled an agreement. She'd have to ask Ianto what she'd missed. He would have been monitoring it even while talking to her. Who said men couldn't multi-task?

The SUV pulled up with a screech of brakes. Police were already in attendance, looking like Halloween ghosts in their white coveralls.

"So you're on point again, Toshiko," Jack said cheerfully. "Hope no-one gets punched this time."

"_They've agreed to let you try the gentle approach," _Ianto's voice murmured into her earpiece. _"Since it was your idea, apparently. Good luck."_

Bless him, Tosh thought, as she scrambled out of the SUV with the rest. What was she going to do without him?

-XXX-

They huddled miserably around the frightened young man. Well, Owen and Tosh were huddled into their jackets against the rain. Jack stood in it, babbling on about estrogen in the water, making some joke or the other about getting pregnant. Couldn't have heard _that _right, Tosh thought with amusement. But it made her wonder. Jack never talked about himself. He could have a dozen children out there, probably did, given the way he spread himself around.

Tosh shook the idea out of her head and the rain out of her hair. She leaned closer as Suzie slid the glove onto her hand, waiting for 'access'. The rain didn't seem to bother Suzie. At least, not once she had the glove on. And when the glove connected, the rain didn't bother any of them. Because it stopped. Everything stopped. Tosh wasn't even surprised by it anymore.

Only nineteen years old, Tosh thought with pity, watching the young man gasp into consciousness. His youth made this seem worse than the last two. Harder, at least. But he didn't panic quite so much as the others. Tosh began to hope they'd get some information that she could pass on to the police.

"You've got a watcher," Ianto reported over the comm. "Life sign registering above you. There are security cameras in that car park. I'll get an ID."

No one even acknowledged the comment. They'd had so many people spy on them it was totally routine. Jack would deal with it. The watcher would bolt, and by morning whoever it was would convince themselves they'd seen some marvelous new form of resuscitation. Or they'd be convinced by whoever they'd told.

"Behind me," John whimpered. Tosh sighed internally. He hadn't seen anything. And they had sixty seconds left. John Tucker had one more minute of life and Tosh had no idea what else to say.

Jack took over. Tosh was relieved but she hated it all the same. Jack always asked the same thing. They always gave the same answers. "There's nothing." "Just dark."

Tosh didn't believe it. There _had _to be something. Life was too short. Life couldn't be all there was.

John died again. The rain came back.

Jack stepped away and looked up. Time to deal with the witness.

"What do you think?" he bellowed.

The watcher fled.

"You love that, don't you?" Owen demanded, once they were back in the warmth of the car, dripping onto the upholstery.

"One of life's little pleasures," Jack admitted. "Ianto, did you get ID?"

"A policewoman," Ianto reported. "Constable Gwen Cooper."

"Police?" Suzie repeated uneasily. "That could be a problem."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Not so easy to dismiss," he mused. "Trained to observe."

"Worth keeping an eye on then, Sir?"

Jack glanced around the car, seeing the nods. "That appears to be a yes."

"I can hack us a link into her home system," Tosh volunteered. "That way Ianto can keep an eye on her emails and so on."

Jack didn't respond. Tosh looked up to see his eyes on her in the rear view mirror.

"You could show him how to hack in, perhaps," Jack suggested quietly, ignoring the heads snapping around to look at him. "Would you be happy with that, Ianto?"

"Of course, Sir."

"Tomorrow then, Rift permitting," Jack decided. "Now let's go home."

Ianto was nowhere to be seen by the time they got back to the Hub. Suzie and Tosh vanished in their own cars. Owen lingered, watching Jack with a disturbing intensity.

Jack returned the gaze with raised eyebrows and a leer. "Gonna wine me and dine me first, Owen?" he asked coarsely.

Owen snorted. "Get over yourself, Harkness. I'm not the Teaboy." He paused to register – and savour - the muscle twitching in Jack's jaw. But the game lost it's entertainment value too quickly this time. Owen's voice softened. "All I'm offering is a beer. Thirsty work, growing a conscience."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but what was the point? He'd all but waved a white flag. "Make it a scotch," he agreed.

He'd have to go back to water soon, Jack mused. He'd have to be ready if the Tardis landed unexpectedly to refuel. But his imagination insisted on presenting images of Tosh and Ianto together, and, just for tonight, he'd let the alcohol blur them out of existence. Jack hoped it worked for Owen, too.

Tosh slipped back into the Hub after a call from Ianto giving her the all clear. Dr Tanizaki needed data from Lisa's converter. They couldn't miss an opportunity for Tosh to perform the tests he'd requested. They'd have plenty of time tonight. Ianto said that when Jack went out with Owen, he stayed out.

They could analyse the data together tomorrow. Ianto already knew how to hack.


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you to everyone who continues to read this. ****I'm still paying the price for letting my imagination rampage for 23 chapters and if it were not for your wonderful comments I'd be hiding under my bed.**

**Now I have to get Tosh & Owen comfy enough to throw tools at each other and Jack to the point where he is ignoring Ianto completely (or appears to be)...so here goes...hope you like...**

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* * *

**

"She's got wireless internet," Tosh commented. "That'll make it easier."

"Thanks for the tip," Ianto muttered, looking up from the screen of Tosh's laptop. "I suppose you'd have this done already."

"Stop whining," Tosh scolded. "You're nearly finished."

Ianto turned obediently back towards the screen. Tosh watched her friend fondly, trying not to giggle at the way his mouth opened slightly when he was concentrating.

They were in the back of the tourist office, conducting Ianto's first 'hacking' lesson. Tosh knew she'd enjoy working with Ianto, but she hadn't anticipated how much she'd enjoy teaching someone else about her job. She'd always been a bit protective of her skills in the past. Looking back, Tosh realized she'd been afraid. Scared that if she taught anyone what she knew, they wouldn't need her anymore. Afraid. Scared. That pretty much summed up the person Toshiko had been, before Torchwood. Before Ianto.

Would she lose all that when Ianto left? It would, she thought, be a poor way to repay all Ianto's faith in her if she collapsed in a heap just because he wasn't around to prop her up any more.

"OK," Ianto said finally, sitting back. "How did I go?"

Tosh checked what he'd done. "Not bad, for a beginner," she conceded. "Not bad at all. You've got us in and it doesn't look like you've tripped any security software. I'm impressed."

Ianto grinned in triumph, but his brows creased as her giggle escaped. "You're not being just a touch patronizing there, are you Miss Sato?"

"Not at all," she said hastily. "You did well, really." Tosh clamped firmly down on the remaining laughter. She was sure he wouldn't want to know about how badly he'd messed his hair up by ruffling his fingers through it.

"Now back off and let me finish," she ordered.

Ianto watched in something approaching awe as Tosh secured a connection and 'woke' the computer she'd targeted. In the time it had taken him just to find the targeted internet account, Tosh set a recording device onto the land line and a tracer on the mobile phone. After today, Constable Gwen Cooper would hardly be able to scratch her nose without Torchwood knowing about it.

Tosh glanced at him and giggled again at the look on his face. "I'm not the Messiah," she quoted.

"You're just a very clever girl," Ianto misquoted back. "The most I'd have been able to do is get us an alert when she'd logged on and piggyback off that. Assuming she used the phone line. I didn't even think about wireless."

"It's still more than most people could," Tosh commented. "Or_ should, _for that matter. How did _you_ learn all this stuff?"

Ianto blushed. Tosh grinned. "Sordid past, Ianto? Tell me all."

"I got caught shoplifting when I was a teenager," Ianto confessed.

"I already knew that," Tosh said absently. "Ran a check before you started here."

Ianto chuckled. "Of course you did. But I didn't want to risk getting caught again, so after that I did my shoplifting on-line." He smirked. "The IT teacher at school gave me extra marks for spending so much of my free time in the computer lab."

Tosh's eyes widened in astonishment.

"I only stole things I really needed," Ianto said defensively. "Clothes, books for school, stuff like that. We weren't well off, and my parents wouldn't let me leave school and get a job. I thought I was helping, providing what I could for myself." He grinned, suddenly looking very young. "And I didn't get caught, so they never knew."

"My friend the master criminal," Tosh teased.

"And how many privacy statutes did you just break?" Ianto countered.

Tosh blinked. "All of them," she decided. "Which means I've earned a coffee, don't you think?"

Ianto laughed. "Subtle, Tosh. Not." He paused on his way out, hand frozen on the counter. "Does this feel weird, or is it just me?"

"Hiding out of range of the CCTV – that's normal," Tosh agreed. "But with Torchwood's blessing? Twilight Zone. Still, you know what they say about gift horses. Speaking of which, tell Jack about that police search when you give him his coffee, won't you?"

Ianto hesitated. "Tosh, couldn't you…?"

"No, Ianto," Tosh said firmly. "If I have to talk to Owen, you have to talk to Jack." Which was an unfair statement, Tosh chided herself. She hadn't been alone with Owen since that horrible Christmas Eve. But Ianto didn't have to know that and Tosh still felt sorry for Jack. And she had a strong suspicion Ianto missed Jack, too.

"Now hurry up so we can get onto those analyses for Dr Tanizaki," Tosh ordered, flapping an imperious hand.

Ianto sighed, very loudly. "Yes, ma'am. Coffee all around and report to the boss. What did your last slave die of?"

"Executed for insolence," Tosh retaliated, deciding impulsively exactly what to do with the paper she'd been writing notes on.

A scrunched-up ball of paper hit Ianto on the head as he dragged his feet back towards the main Hub. "Bullseye," Tosh crowed.

"Good aim," Ianto called back. "Bet you can't fire a gun that straight."

The second ball of paper hit him on the ear. It stung. But not as much as knowing that after three more weeks, he'd never see her again.

* * *

Jack looked up at the knock on the door. His last remaining office-based pleasure, he reflected sourly, after that uncomfortable attack of conscience. Looking at the gorgeous Welshman. Could be worse, Jack conceded to himself, letting his eyes roam. Ianto did look good in a suit. Not quite as good as he looked out of it, but better than nothing.

"If you're bringing coffee, you don't need to knock, Ianto," Jack said. Couldn't help smiling, and if his eyes showed his appreciation, well, a thing of beauty was _supposed_ to be appreciated, wasn't it?

"I'll try to remember that, Sir," Ianto answered, not quite meeting his eyes. He placed Jack's mug onto his desk, in reach but out of range of the paperwork. Out of range of Jack's hands, too, incidentally. And snatched his own hand away, but not before Jack's fingers made contact as they closed over the handle. Jack allowed himself a smirk of triumph. Was that a blush? So, looking _and _flirting. The day was improving already.

"You're in early," Jack noted. His eyelids drooped as he inhaled the scent floating up from his mug. Looking, flirting and coffee. _Amazing_ coffee. Heaven in a cup, served by heaven in a suit. This was probably what they meant by counting your blessings. A concept obviously developed by someone who subscribed to that pathetic 'glass half full' mentality.

Ianto nodded. "Toshiko offered to come in before I had to open the tourist office." His hands twitched across the desk, straightening the edges of the piles of paperwork.

Jack leaned back, mug clasped between his hands. Still looking. Observing the deliciously ruffled state of the Welshman's hair and determinedly _not _wondering whether Toshiko had anything to do with it.

"Oh yes, the hacking lesson." Jack waved vaguely at the chair on the other side of his desk. "Have a seat, Ianto. You might as well give me a progress report while you're here." Just checking on staff training, he told himself. Nothing to do with wanting to keep Ianto in his office.

Ianto obeyed. Didn't relax into the chair though. Spine straight, arms crossed over his chest. "So," Jack prompted. "How's it going?"

"Constable Cooper is now under Torchwood's surveillance," Ianto answered.

"Good work," Jack said, "And you? Master Hacker yet?"

"I'll never be up to Josh's standard." Ianto said modestly, relaxing just enough to uncross his arms. "But she says I'm doing well."

Jack added 'listening to that voice' to his list of office indulgences.

"And there's been a police search triggered for Captain Jack Harkness," Ianto continued.

Jack smiled. "Constable Cooper?"

Ianto nodded. "We assume so, Sir."

"Persistent," Jack mused. "And will she find him?"

Ianto smiled that butler's smile. All in the mouth, nothing in the eyes. "She'll find _him_, Sir. There _is_ a Captain Jack Harkness in the public records. An American volunteer stationed in London. Went missing in 1941, during the Blitz."

"Couldn't be me, then," Jack commented, hiding his reaction behind his coffee mug. "Though I do carry my years exceptionally well."

Butler smile again. Level Two. Let the boss think his jokes are funny. Jack fought the sudden urge to crack the mask. His hands tightened around his mug. It'd be so easy. He'd done it before. In this room. On this desk, even. Holy hell, Harkness, he warned himself. Get a grip. Or don't, actually. Don't even think about it.

"There's no trace of you in _any _records, Sir," Ianto confirmed. "Toshiko has Torchwood well hidden."

"Really?" Jack bit his tongue against the sarcastic edge in his voice. Only natural for Ianto to want to praise his…girlfriend? Had it gotten that far yet? Jack had to assume so, if he'd been dumped for her. Dumped. He hadn't been dumped. Jack Harkness didn't get dumped. Besides which, that implied a relationship, which there wasn't.

Ianto smiled. A better smile this time. "Oh yes, Sir. Tosh had me search before she gave me full Torchwood access. Couldn't find a thing."

"Well, I did hire her for her genius," Jack confirmed. What was wrong with him? Toshiko deserved praise. She _was_ a genius.

Silence followed. Ianto twitched in his seat. "Something you wanted to ask, Ianto?" Jack asked idly.

"There was….no, it doesn't matter, sorry. None of my business, Sir," Ianto answered quickly.

Jack leaned forward, chin propped on his hands. "Probably not, but you've got me curious. What did you find?"

"Tosh found his service photo, Sir," Ianto said, "and the Captain Jack Harkness of 1941 bears a striking resemblance to you."

Jack tensed. Of course Toshiko would have found it. Of course Ianto would have noticed the resemblance, even though he'd had that GameStation makeover shortly afterwards. And it was far too late to be realizing he should have restored the original service photo. Couldn't even remember what he looked like, that man whose name he'd stolen.

"I remember being told I was named for some heroic ancestor," Jack said dismissively. He really should get around to faking himself a family tree. He could _feel_ the curiosity in Ianto's eyes. Didn't want him to start looking too hard. He ran the Archives, for goodness sake. If Ianto started looking for Jack Harkness, he'd find – how many filing cabinets were there now? Jack cast about somewhat frantically for a change of topic. Oh yes, they were discussing his training, weren't they? Training. Training with _Owen_. That'd deflect him.

"Owen tells me you've been practicing in the shooting range together."

"Once," Ianto answered, eyes wary now. Deflection accomplished.

Jack grinned. "Not as useless as I'd thought," he quoted. "High praise, coming from Owen."

"Glad you explained," Ianto replied. "I'd never have picked up the subtlety."

Jack chuckled. He did enjoy the verbal banter. Not quite as much, admittedly, as the physical encounters. But again, better than nothing.

"We might have Suzie give you some lessons, next," Jack suggested. He waved a hand vaguely. "General artifact repairs." Whereupon he opened his mouth and choked on his own foot. "As you seem to be doing the rounds of the team."

It was only after Ianto exploded out of his chair and stormed away that Jack realized the connotations of what he'd just said. And for someone as skilled as himself at the not-so-subtle art of the innuendo, that was a clear indicator of how totally messed up things had become. How messed up _he'd_ become. Jack sighed and drank coffee soured by the taste of guilt. Alex had constantly lectured him about getting involved with his team-mates. Should have listened to him.

Jack rose and ambled across to the railing, looking out over his domain. The main Hub was empty. Toshiko was still in the tourist centre. Ianto would be there by now, too. Hope Tosh could calm him down, or Jack would be on decaf and death glares for the foreseeable future. No sign of Owen or Suzie, but it was still early.

Alex. His old boss, the one who'd trusted him with the task of leading Torchwood into this dangerous new century. Trusted him by default, he supposed, since Jack was the only one Alex couldn't kill. After he'd gotten past the shock of Alex's death, Jack had been excited about taking on the leadership of Torchwood. He'd wanted to make something worthwhile of the Institute, and in some ways he had. The victims of the Rift were cared for now. The aliens that came through were treated with respect, at least as long as they weren't trying to kill anyone.

When, Jack wondered, had he forgotten that his fellow humans deserved the same sort of respect he offered the rest of the universe? Especially the humans he'd chosen as part of his team. They were good people, this team. Damaged, though, all of them, in one way or another. Had he done that on purpose, chosen people as damaged as himself? Or was it only the broken that could survive Torchwood? Eggs and chickens.

Jack couldn't fix them. Couldn't fix himself, couldn't fix anyone else. But he _could_ stop leading them in the wrong direction. Stop getting drunk with Owen twice a week, for a start. Stop letting Suzie run off on whatever tangent she wanted. Stop playing infantile games with Ianto. Stop throwing Tosh into the front line when it was obvious she wasn't comfortable there. Stop mooning about the fact that the century had turned. It might be months before he found the Doctor again. Years even. No reason to waste them.

Start acting like a leader, even. Which might actually involve apologizing when he'd stuffed up. Maybe even following his own rules. Jack ducked back into his office and collected the Doctor detector. Crossed the empty Hub and put it back in its proper place. It was a start. He could still see it from his desk, after all.

* * *

Tosh hurriedly hid the files on Lisa as she heard the tinkle of the bell over the tourism office door. The office wasn't due to open for another half hour, but maybe she'd left the door unlocked. She ducked through the bead curtain and hurried towards the counter, hoping Ianto had a pamphlet to hand out. Tosh didn't really know much about the delights of Cardiff.

"Relax Tosh, it's only me." Owen. Smiling. At her. A very simple thing, very normal. Absolutely no reason for her heart to be not only in her throat but hammering as well.

"Good Morning Owen," Tosh answered. She reached under the desk and pressed the access button for the main Hub. The door swung open.

"Toshiko?"

Tosh looked up. Owen lingered in the doorway. The sound of the door swinging shut echoed in the strained silence.

"We're good, right?" His voice sounded strange. Rough, as if he'd been smoking too much. Did Owen smoke? He hadn't tasted as though he did. Tosh stamped firmly on that train of thought and swallowed her heart back down to where it belonged. "Sorry?"

Owen moved back towards her. He stopped on the other side of the counter, propping his elbows on it and regarding her warily. He looked at aliens that way, sometimes. Wondering whether or not they were about to attack. Tosh suspected she was looking at him exactly the same way.

It wasn't very mature, the way she'd avoided him since Christmas. Weeks ago, and this was the first time they'd actually been alone together.

Owen's fingers started drumming on the counter. An uneven rhythm, just like her heartbeat. "I've been trying to say this for weeks," he grumbled. He met her eyes and she looked away instantly, terrified of shedding the tears that threatened. "I'm sorry, OK? Had too much to drink Christmas Eve and I, well, I shouldn't have, and ….. I won't again, and" he mumbled to a halt. "You're not making this easy, Toshiko," Owen complained.

Tosh forced herself to start breathing again. She raised her eyes, forcing them to meet his. "It wasn't your fault, Owen. I…I overreacted, I suppose. I…" her turn to stammer to a halt. "Can we just forget it?" she asked weakly.

Owen heaved a sigh that had to be relief. His shoulders slumped. "Sure. Friends, right?"

Tosh nodded. Friends would be good. She'd need a friend after Ianto left.

Owen shoved himself away from the counter. "Glad that's sorted, then."

This time he ducked through the door before it was even fully open. Nearly ran bang into the Teaboy. First time he'd seen him without that stone face, though. Well, not in the Hub. In fact, the only time Owen had seen Ianto looking like that was right before he'd found out how hard the boy in the suit could punch.

* * *

This is what you get, Ianto told himself, for wounding Jack's pride. Humiliation. Fine. It wasn't as though he hadn't felt humiliated in his dealings with Jack before. And it's only for three more weeks, he promised himself. You can put up with anything for three weeks. For Lisa.

Tosh jumped in her seat as the flap in the counter slammed back down.

"Ianto?"

"Don't ask, Tosh." The tacky bead curtain rattled as he swept it aside. Tosh ducked away from the violently swinging strands. Those things looked like they'd sting. "Sorry," Ianto apologized. "It's nothing. Just Jack being Jack. And you look like you don't need to hear it, anyway."

He slumped into the chair beside Tosh. Actually, he tried to slump but it didn't quite work, considering that his muscles were still too stiff with anger for anything remotely resembling relaxed posture.

Ianto took a few deep breaths, getting himself back under control. "Sorry Tosh. But really, I'm fine. I should have expected something like this. You don't offend the mighty Captain Harkness and emerge unscathed. So, I've vented. Your turn, Cariad. What happened with Owen? He bolted out of here like the Furies were after him."

Tosh tried to smile, but couldn't bring it off. "The ghosts of Christmas past seem to have visited us both this morning."

Ianto's face darkened again. "What did he do this time?"

Tosh shrugged, trying her best to be casual. "Nothing bad. He even apologized. Wants us to be friends. Could be worse, I suppose."

"Told you he wasn't good enough for you." Ianto squeezed her hand and sighed. "Sometimes I really hate this place, Tosh."

Tosh pasted on a smile. "Let's see what we can do about getting you out of here, then." She turned back to her laptop and retrieved the data on Lisa.

"Speaking of getting out of here," Ianto remarked, rummaging through his pockets. "I was packing last night and I thought I'd better bring this back." He handed over the artifact Tosh planted in his flat all those weeks ago. "Did I miss anything?"

Tosh took the object and examined it. "No, it's all here. Are you sure you won't need it again, though?"

Ianto shrugged. "He hasn't accessed my GPS since Christmas." Tosh didn't need to ask who 'he' was. "And I didn't want to leave without dismantling it. Don't want you getting into trouble if he takes my flat apart after I've gone."

_After I'm gone._ The words hung almost visibly in the silence. "I wish you could come with us," Ianto said softly. His arm slid around her shoulders. "Selfish of me, but I do. _We_ do."

"So do I," Tosh admitted. "I don't suppose…." More silence.

Ianto broke it. "Can't do that to you," he said gruffly. "We'll probably spend the rest of our lives hiding. Bad enough I'm doing that to Lisa. Won't do it to you as well."

Tosh sighed. She had to admit she didn't really want that for herself either.

"I'll have to open the tourism office soon," Ianto prompted, squeezing her shoulder gently.

Tosh felt the comforting weight of Ianto's chin resting on her shoulder. They turned back to the screen together and continued with their task. Sending him to a freedom that was beginning to feel like a different form of captivity.

Somewhere in the back of Tosh's mind a nasty voice wondered whether Lisa was worth it.

* * *

The first thing Owen noticed as he entered the Hub was the addition to the artifacts near the entry. Jack's pet hand was back. Owen wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, but Jack was in his office, staring moodily out across the Hub, which tipped the scales towards 'bad.' Owen wondered if Jack had anything to do with Teaboy's temper and concluded the odds were heavily in favor of it. And Tosh hadn't looked much happier. Bloody Teaboy. Life in Torchwood was easier before he'd arrived. Dirtier, less organized and woefully undersupplied with coffee, admittedly. But still, much less complicated.

It was obviously shaping up to be one of those days, Owen decided gloomily. He hadn't even made it down to the Autopsy Bay when one of the alert systems went ballistic. And since Tosh was still out front with the Teaboy, Owen grumbled his way across to check the alert. Whereupon everyone's current happiness level became irrelevant.

"Bloody hell," he swore. "Jack," he yelled. "There's a Weevil in the frigging hospital."

* * *

"I have to say, I don't really understand what Dr Tanizaki's getting at with these tests." Tosh noted. "It's not like you'll be taking the converter with you, so why does he need to know the composition?"

Ianto's face crinkled in thought. "One of the reasons he thought I was hoaxing him at the start was because everything the Cybermen brought with them got sucked back into the void. I've tried telling him they made converters here, but I guess he still doesn't believe it. Or I suppose he could be trying to make one of his own. Best to humor him, don't you think? He's taking a risk, flying over here when he's obviously still not sure I've been telling the truth."

Tosh saved their work hurriedly as the door from the Hub slammed open. Owen again.

"Skates on, Toshiko," he yelled. "Bloody Weevils. We're lucky Suzie hadn't left home yet. She's gone ahead to close the wing of the hospital."

"Hospital," Tosh repeated. She turned to Ianto. "Would you start the cover story? Something requiring quarantine?"

"I'll find a suitably obscure disease," Ianto agreed. The tourist booth would be opening late, today. Couldn't have anyone leaning over the counter and reading about an outbreak of …Dengue Fever? – No, too tropical for Cardiff.

"How about smallpox?" Ianto suggested.

"Something like smallpox," Tosh said at the same time. She smiled. "Guess that's agreed then."

"Good choice," Owen commented. Bloody hell, they were practically reading each other's minds. "Plenty of diseases re-emerging since people started getting all anti-vaccine," he added, his foot tapping out an impatient rhythm as he waited by the door.

"What's a Weevil doing inside the hospital, though," Tosh fretted. "All right, Owen, I'm coming." She ducked through the gap in the counter as Ianto lifted the flap for her. "They usually avoid inhabited buildings, don't they?"

"Tell me about it," Owen agreed. "I think we should try to bring this one back. Try to find out what's changed."

"We always bring them back," Tosh protested.

"Alive, I meant." Owen turned back and looked pointedly at Ianto. "We'll need a cell." It was beyond pathetic, how good it made him feel, giving Teaboy orders in front of Toshiko. Get over yourself, he thought. Get over her.

Ianto merely nodded. The tourist desk wouldn't be opening at all, today. Preparing a cell gave him plenty of excuse to be out of sight. He'd be able to sneak down to visit Lisa. She'd been so sweet, lately. So excited about Dr Tanizaki, making all sorts of plans for when they were free. And it had been Lisa who'd gotten Ianto thinking about taking Tosh with them. Couldn't happen, of course. But she was becoming more and more like the old Lisa every day. Amazing the difference having a bit of hope made.

"Come on then Tosh," Owen urged. "Jack's bringing the SUV around. He'll be leaning on the horn any minute."

Tosh followed him out, wondering exactly what had made Jack so eager to avoid Ianto that he'd started playing valet. Something bad enough that Ianto wouldn't tell her about it.

The SUV pulled up and Tosh put all personal concerns into the back of her mind. A Weevil in the hospital. Owen was talking about how this was typical predatory behavior, honing in on the sick and the weak. Tosh became so engrossed in listening to his theory that she forgot to be uncomfortable around him.

There was exhilaration in working with the whole team that was never quite there when they split up. The four of them worked smoothly together, getting into position without any of the hospital staff even realizing they'd gotten into the closed wing. The musical sound of Ianto's voice directed them as they spread out and closed slowly around their quarry. Tosh found herself smiling, glorying in the rush of adrenaline. It was going to be all right, she realized. _She_ was going to be all right. She was part of the team. They were her friends. Or at least Owen was.

They just about had the Weevil cornered when Ianto's voice crackled over the comm. Not calm anymore. "The bloody woman's stalking you, Sir" he yelled. "Constable Cooper's between you and the Weevil. And she's brought someone else with her."

The mood in the SUV was subdued as they loaded the sedated Weevil into the back.

"Is it too much to ask for just one day where nobody dies?" Owen demanded. "And he'd have stayed out of the way if that daft PC hadn't stuck her nose in."

"She's still there," Ianto reported. "If you take the rear exit you'll miss her, Sir."

A wicked grin slid across Jack's face. "Let's see if she's as good as she thinks she is," he gloated. "Ianto, it's time to test your hacking skills. Make sure she can't trace the SUV."

Constable Cooper jumped clear as the SUV bore down on her. Suzie and Owen laughed openly. Jack grinned his predatory grin. Even Tosh couldn't help the satisfied smile that twisted her lips. They'd achieved their goal but it had cost the life of a civilian. A civilian who'd followed a woman with far too much curiosity for anyone's safety. Even her own.

* * *

**If anyone has a better theory about why Lisa and her converter didn't get sucked into the void, pls tell me and I'll add it in. Thanks for reading.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Is there any point in apologising for the horrendous delay? Real life, Christmas, being insane enough to have other fics going, writers block...take you pick. Thank you to the people who kicked me back into writing (you know who you are!). And thank you for waiting!**

And because it has been so long, quick summary of where I left it:  
**Timeline-** we're in the middle of Everything Changes, just after the team have left the hospital, narrowly missing hitting Gwen with the SUV!  
**Last chapter -** Tosh and Owen have agreed to be 'just friends', so Towen is on hiatus. Jack insulted Ianto (accidentally-on-purpose) by implying he was 'doing the rounds of the team' so Janto is frosty.

**

* * *

**

"She's following you," Ianto reported.

"We see her," Tosh confirmed, twisting around in the back seat. "Two cars back."

"Pretty hard to miss her," Owen snorted.

"Tailing us in a police car." Suzie commented. "So subtle."

"She_ is _leaving a car between us and her, though," Jack pointed out, either unable to keep the amusement out of his voice, or more likely not trying. "I'm sure they would have covered that in Surveillance 101."

"A bright blue and yellow police car, in full daylight," Suzie elaborated.

"Guess she missed the bit about using unmarked cars," Owen snickered.

"They must have covered that the same lesson where they mention you aren't supposed to barge through hazard tape," Tosh added bitterly, her mind still battling with the senseless death of the hospital porter.

The banter was unkind, but Tosh found it strangely satisfying. If that woman hadn't interfered, the poor man wouldn't have ventured into the restricted area, and he'd still be alive.

Jack tried to ignore the childish comments flying around inside the car. His fault, after all. He'd treated them like children, so he shouldn't be surprised if they behaved that way. Still, it was disheartening to hear Tosh joining in. He'd thought Ianto would be a better influence than that. And this tendency he'd developed of letting every train of thought lead to Ianto had to stop.

"We'll go in via the lift," Jack announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Vanish into thin air. That'll throw her. Ianto, I'll need you to collect the SUV as soon as she's out of sight of it."

"Yes sir," Ianto answered. That voice, Jack thought, could freeze lava, even via the comm. Damn it, he hadn't meant to be offensive, it just slipped out.

"And there's a Weevil in the back," Owen added. "The cell better be ready, Teaboy. Or should that be Weevilboy?"

Suzie snickered. "Sounds like a superhero's sidekick. The Amazing Weevilboy."

Tosh fumed in silence. She could easily imagine Ianto's hands clenching as he absorbed the insult.

"Our very own dynamic duo," Owen sneered. "Captain Cardiff and The Amazing Weevilboy."

"Owen," Jack said warningly. He wondered now whether the Ianto-baiting was his fault too. It occurred to him – quite belatedly - that his blatant flirting wasn't very respectful. He'd set the tone, and the others were just following along, in their own way.

"The cell _is_ ready," Ianto said, voice clear and controlled. "And there'd be food if you'd bothered to supply the dietary requirements I asked you for last month, _Dr Harper_."

"It won't need feeding tonight," Owen said dismissively. "The sedative will suppress its appetite." He tossed a dark look over his shoulder. Looking straight through Tosh, or so it felt, as he checked the progress of their tail. The police car was still in pursuit, in spite of Jack's erratic driving. "Besides," Owen added, disgust clear in his tone, "It just had a nice snack of hospital porter. Courtesy of Cardiff's finest."

Joking about the irritating police constable was one thing, Tosh thought in annoyance, but making fun of the victim was another.

"A porter whose family will be looking for him tonight," she put in quietly. "And the people who should have protected him are in an SUV making tasteless jokes."

Suzie rolled her eyes. "Hey Owen, you forgot the damsel in distress, Ms Bleeding-heart."

Tosh glared across at Suzie. "At least I've got one! And since we're making the superhero list, Owen, don't forget Queen of the Dead here." Tosh bit her lip. Heaven help her, she was turning into one of them.

Suzie scowled, and even though Tosh regretted opening her mouth, she couldn't help warming at the grin Owen flicked towards her. She was pretty sure she'd heard the click of the comm. being muted, too, which meant she'd made Ianto laugh as well. Tosh began to understand why they used this sort of humor, cracked these tasteless jokes. It made it all seem just a bit less real.

Jack wasn't laughing though. "That's enough, all of you," he snapped. "Grow up, for Godssake. Yeah, it went wrong today, but that's no reason to act like a pack of juveniles. Suck it up and pull yourselves together. And that's not a suggestion."

There was an awkward pause, shocked expressions, a chorus of mumbled apologies.

"If we take the SUV into the garage I can lower the Weevil down through the chute we use for corpses," Owen offered. "It'll go straight into the autopsy bay. Won't harm it, as long as it doesn't thrash around. Which it can't."

"I'll meet it in the autopsy bay then," Ianto agreed stiffly.

"I retconned the security guard who saw me taking the porter's body out to the Bay," Suzie added. "He'll remember seeing the porter leave, but nothing about us." She turned to Tosh. "You could work that into the cover story."

Tosh nodded. "He won't be registered as a missing person until tomorrow night, and he should wash ashore, um…"

"High tide on Tuesday," Ianto supplied.

"So we make a 'concerned citizen' report of something in the Bay on Tuesday evening," Suzie suggested.

"I do a lovely retired Londoner walking his dog who doesn't want to get involved," Owen offered.

"God Bless the Crimestoppers program," Tosh agreed.

"That's more like it," Jack said approvingly.

The rest of the trip passed in silence.

-XXX-

They approached the invisible lift in a group, intent on making sure they all vanished at the same instant. Owen cast a half-glance back. "Still there," he reported. "Naughty girl, she's parked illegally."

Tosh tried not to notice the way the game made his eyes twinkle. They were past that. They were friends.

A parking inspector approached the woman pursuing them, and they all stifled giggles as they leapt for the invisible lift while she was distracted.

"Poor love," Suzie said with satisfaction. "Oh look, here comes her little friend."

They clustered around the nearest CCTV feed and watched the drama unfold.

"Officer Plod is blaming it on the bang on her head," Owen said delightedly. "She won't be back."

"Yes she will," Jack stated. "And I'm not having her walk straight into one of you on your way out. If she's gonna find us, she'll do it our way. No-one leaves the Hub until further notice."

Tosh's heart sank. She'd planned to go down to the basement again tonight and implement some of Dr Tanizaki's suggestions that would supposedly make it easier to achieve separation from the converter. But if Jack insisted they wait for this Cooper woman, they could be stuck in the Hub all night. Lisa would be alone. Ianto wouldn't risk sleeping in the basement while they were all in the Hub. Tosh knew he'd fret about it, even though he'd spent last night with Lisa, and probably snatched some time with her while they were at the hospital, too.

"Conference room in half an hour, everyone," Jack ordered. "We're taking the opportunity for a team meeting. That little performance you all gave in the car suggests I've been letting too much slide lately. Time to smarten up, girls and boys."

A chorus of groans followed him to his office. But Jack looked over at the hand, back in its place by the door, and decided that if he had to change, so did they. Because given what had happened today, hell, for the last few months, they weren't ready. And they had to be.

-XXX-

Gwen glanced across at Andy, who'd insisted on driving. Of course he had, he didn't believe a word. Andy thought the bang on her head was giving her hallucinations.

There'd been nothing wrong with her head last night. She hadn't imagined seeing that man brought back to life. A murdered man. She'd heard that woman in the leather jacket trying to find out if the poor boy knew who killed him. The police officer in Gwen was elated at the thought of a victim having the chance to name his killer. Imagine if they could do that for everyone who'd been murdered! Surely it would comfort the victim to know whoever stole their lives wouldn't be able to vanish into the shadows. Vengeance or justice, however they wanted to think of it. Maybe it would give some of them a measure of peace to take with them – wherever it was they went.

But the rest of Gwen, the part that went home to tea with Rhys and cried in his arms when she'd had a bad day, that part shuddered. Knowing you'd died, hearing that you've got two minutes. Worse than dying in the first place, perhaps, especially if it had been a quick 'never knew what hit him' death.

But still, it was nothing short of a miracle. Yesterday, she'd seen a dead man brought back to life. Today she'd seen a…a…well no it wasn't a man. It was some sort of beast that looked like a man and it had killed that poor porter. Had they brought the porter back to life?

Everyone at the hospital was accounted for, Andy said so.

Andy. It was a mystery why he and Rhys didn't get along, when they were so alike. Andy thought she'd imagined it all. Rhys would say the same. Rhys still insisted they'd hallucinated all the stuff that happened at Christmas. Drugs in the water, or some such, he said. Good, solid, dependable Rhys would rather believe _that_ than trust what his own eyes told him. And her Granddad, all silver and spooky, coming to visit every day, that was just a glitch in the radio waves, according to Rhys.

When Gwen joined the police force, she'd swallowed the whole recruitment spiel and thirsted for more. Solving crimes and protecting the public. Excitement and adventure. But being a constable was all hanging around crimes scenes and protecting herself _from _the public. Like today. Trying to keep the peace and ending with a bang on the head. There might be some excitement if she ever got promoted to detective, but being a constable in Cardiff was as thrilling as watching paint dry, sometimes even less so. At least paint changed color as it dried. Nothing ever changed in Cardiff. Investigating the velocity of a kebab, that about summed it up.

But yesterday, and today, she'd seen something worth investigating, and no bugger wanted to follow it up. It was enough to make her bash her head against a wall, if it didn't already hurt so much.

Bang on the head, my arse, Gwen thought, fury warring with confusion. No such person as Captain Jack Harkness, bollocks. No such car. I was reading the bloody number out. I saw it. I saw it all, and _none_ of it was my imagination.

So, fake name, fake license plate. A fake license plate on a big black car with _Torchwood_ written on the side. Who uses an untraceable name and car registration and then goes on to stencil the name of an organization only the police knew about _on the side of their car_?

And how the _hell _did they vanish into thin air?

Gwen didn't know. Gwen didn't like not knowing. Gwen wanted to find out.

Gwen wasn't having tea with Rhys tonight. She had an appointment on the Plass.

-XXX-

The grumbling continued as they assembled in the conference room. Jack stalked in, gaze fixed on the stack of folders in his arms, as if his glare had the power to stop the tottering pile from obeying the laws of gravity.

"So we're all here," he said approvingly, mouth creasing into a smile though still not looking up. As Jack reached the head of the table, his smile turned into a frown at the absence of suit-clad arms relieving him of the folders. Tosh could hear his foot tapping impatiently, before Jack finally looked up and around with an air of something comically close to confusion.

Tosh nearly giggled. She still didn't know what Jack had done or said that upset Ianto so much that morning, though given Ianto's disparaging 'Jack being Jack' comment, she thought she could guess. Regardless, it obviously hadn't crossed Jack's mind that he'd risked losing the helpful presence at his elbow. Serve him right. Serve them all right. Time they realized. Even the most faithful hound eventually retreats from constantly being kicked in the ribs. And she'd use that, Tosh thought vindictively, after Ianto disappeared with Lisa. It'd be a damned good excuse, maybe even enough to stop them looking for him. Especially – now that was a thought – especially if she made sure a sufficient quantity of Retcon went missing when he left.

"All here except Ianto," Jack amended. "Doing a coffee run, is he?"

Owen leaned back in his chair. "Still settling the Weevil, I expect. Taking his bloody time about it, isn't he?"

The files dropped onto the table with an ominous thump. "You left him to do it alone? Christ, Owen, he's not armed. What if it woke up?"

Owen shrugged, completely ignoring the glares from both Jack and Tosh. "It's sedated. It won't wake up."

Jack shifted restlessly. "Then he should be back by now."

"I'll find him," Tosh said hastily. She didn't really think Ianto was in any danger. Owen was a doctor before anything else, and he wouldn't intentionally put anyone at risk. While she wasn't overly impressed with his attitude, she wasn't surprised by it either. Owen never missed a chance to put Ianto down, especially in public, and he'd consider Ianto's absence a bonus. No chance of being put back in his place by one of those 'oh so polite' sarcastic rejoinders.

But if Ianto hadn't been attacked, there were two likely explanations for his absence, neither of which would be improved by the addition of Jack. In fact, either possibility plus Jack equaled disaster.

Adrenaline poured through Tosh's veins and she rose to her feet on the edge of panic. She didn't see Jack move, but strong hands descended onto her shoulders, trying to press her back down into her seat.

"I'll go, Toshiko," Jack said firmly. "I'll assess and call for backup if I need it. Or," he added, with another dark glare at Owen, "medical assistance, as the case may be."

Owen merely snorted. "I know my bloody job. It's out for another four hours, at least, and it'll be dopey for a good while after that. The only way Teaboy's hurt is he's tripped over his designer shoes and knocked himself out."

Alarms rang inside Tosh's brain, so many she couldn't sort them out. OK, she didn't really think Ianto had been attacked by the Weevil, cancel that one. But she knew Jack didn't believe Ianto was in danger from the Weevil, either. Jack trusted Owen too, probably even more than she did. Besides which, if he really thought one of the team was at risk, he'd be down there already, not standing here chatting.

"He probably just turned his comm. off and didn't hear about the meeting," Tosh suggested, somewhat desperately.

"Then I might have a few choice words to say," Jack responded. "Which the rest of you don't need to hear."

What a rubbish excuse, Tosh thought. They all turned their comms off inside the Hub sometimes. Jack hadn't even tried ringing Ianto's mobile phone. No, Jack was going after Ianto for reasons that had nothing to do with Torchwood. She knew it. Especially given the stiffness and formality of even the most basic interactions between the two men today. Tosh didn't know whether to be sorry for Jack because it was obvious he'd been hurt, even though he'd never admit it; or angry at him for being insensitive enough to try again.

Ending the 'affair', if that was the right word for it, had softened some of the despair in Ianto's eyes. One less deceit on his conscience. But if he had to start it up again, to protect Lisa, Tosh had no doubt that he would. Hence alarm number two, blazing red and terrifying, because _that _led straight to the memory of the night Ianto turned up in pieces on her doorstep. She'd put him back together once, more through luck than judgment, and she had no illusions about being able to pull that miracle off a second time.

Alarm number three turned the adrenaline into ice. It was possible that Ianto had gone to Lisa. He might have risked a quick visit, to explain why she'd be alone tonight. Fear sent icy tendrils winding down Tosh's throat as she thought about what might happen if Jack found Ianto with Lisa.

Tosh didn't know what to do. If she followed Jack, she'd have the choice of dropping herself into it too by trying to help Ianto, or pretending to side with Jack so she could remain in a position to help Ianto through the aftermath.

She knew which Ianto would prefer. Tosh slid a finger beneath her collar and traced the outline of the chain Ianto gave her for Christmas. A locket to remember them by. He'd spent weeks trying to convince Tosh to retcon away her memories of Lisa because he was so afraid of taking her down with him if it all went wrong. Tosh hadn't actually promised to save herself - she'd dodged making a promise she didn't know if she could keep – but she knew what Ianto would want her to do. And if she stayed out of it, surely she'd be better placed to help him, anyway.

Tosh succumbed to the pressure of Jack's hands on her shoulders and sank back into her seat, hoping her decision wasn't the result of cowardice. She was probably mistaken, anyway. Ianto wouldn't risk visiting Lisa while they were all here. He was smarter than that. And he wouldn't risk taking up with Jack again, either. Would he?

Jack's eyes moved back to the folders and his mouth quirked into a grin. "Besides, you guys would probably prefer to have me out of the way while you - prepare."

His grin spread at the anxious glances that sped around the table. "Prepare for what?" Suzie demanded.

"We'll be discussing our budget," Jack announced. "We may not report to the Government, but they still fund us, and there are questions being asked about our expenditure. Find whatever relates to your own projects and be prepared to justify it."

Jack left, with much swirling of coat. A wasted effort, given that the team was staring at the stack of folders with horror. Eventually, Suzie rose to her feet with a groan and started passing them out. "Glove, that's mine," she recited. "Pharmaceutical, there are three of those. They're yours, Owen.

Owen took the folders with poor grace and flipped one open. "He's gone through it with a bloody highlighter," he moaned. "That's Teaboy's influence, that is."

Tosh smiled, because she knew Owen would expect it. Her mind was following Jack.

-XXX-

"Back again, sweetheart?" Lisa's eyes glowed.

Ianto smiled and leaned over the converter for a kiss. "I can't stay long," he warned. He noticed the text scrolling across the screen Tosh had given Lisa for Christmas. "What are you reading?"

"Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy," Lisa answered.

"Again?"

"I read faster now," Lisa admitted. "I've already read everything Toshiko scanned in, so I'm starting over."

Ianto frowned. "Maybe she can get you some more. I'll ask. But I have to get back now, love. I only came to tell you that you might be alone tonight. Someone's been following the team in the field, and Jack's ordered everyone to stay in the Hub."

Lisa's eyes widened. "They're still here? You shouldn't have come down while they were still here!"

"I wanted to…."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ianto! I'm not stupid, especially not now. I would have known you'd have a reason for not coming back tonight. You shouldn't have risked this. They'll find me!"

"But, sweetheart…."

Lisa's eyes widened. Her hand tightened around Ianto's, then released it altogether.

"I can hear someone in the Archives," she hissed. "You have to leave. Hurry."

Ianto bolted for the door but froze halfway. "You can hear that far?" he asked, voice shaking. Jack had found him in the Archives a few times, when he hadn't gotten into the main Hub quick enough. Had she heard _that_? Did she suspect? Or did she _know_?"

Ianto blinked rapidly. Lisa hated it when he cried.

Lisa shut her eyes. "Don't, Ianto. Don't ask any more, for both our sakes. Just go."

The door slammed, the lock rattled. He was gone. The agonized expression on his face lingered behind her eyelids.

_And he was breathing the way he does when he's trying not to cry. I shouldn't have said that. I panicked. _

_If he thinks I know, he'll think he's lost me. Should I talk to him about it, or should I pretend to forget again?_

_I can't remember how these things work. Emotions are so confusing._

_I can't lose him now. We're so close to completion. So close to freedom._

_Maybe I should ask Tosh what to do. She's smart, Toshiko is. It's a pity Ianto doesn't want to take her with us. Maybe he'll think differently – after. Of course he'll think differently. He'll think like me. He'll __**be**__ like me. We'll be together, at last, and Jack won't matter then. He'll be gone._

_I'll __**enjoy**__ deleting that one._

-XXX-

Suzie delved through the rest of the pile. "One for the knife, I expected that. Dry-cleaning, we can leave that for Teaboy. Summary from Jubilee Pizza – hell we eat a lot of junk – Teaboy can have that too. Invoices from the hardware suppliers, that'll be me. Pathology? Owen, don't you do that yourself?"

"I farm out the routine blood tests when we're busy," Owen said vaguely. "The human ones." He was still flicking through the first file.

"Mine," Suzie continued. "Mine again. Teaboy. Jack can do this one himself. Teaboy, Mine. Another for you Owen. That's it." She looked accusingly at Tosh. "Why didn't you get any?"

"Probably because I always include the costings in my reports," Tosh answered smugly.

"Who's got time for that?" Owen grumbled. He flicked open the second folder and his eyes widened. "Shite, look at this invoice. It's gotta be wrong. No bloody way I've ordered that much morphine."

Tosh's heart didn't hammer. It stopped. Thank God she'd stayed. "Can I help, Owen?" she offered weakly. Maybe she could fix it. She _had _to fix it. Why hadn't she considered this when she'd first begun siphoning away medication for Lisa? But she knew why. Jack usually left all the accounting to Ianto.

Owen nodded, still immersed in the folder. "Yep, thanks Tosh. It's ridiculous, there's no way we go through this amount of painkillers." He pushed the folder towards her. "See? Buckets of anti-inflammatory drugs, all sorts of other painkillers."

"Chandler and Bell," Tosh noted, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I'm pretty sure their system had a virus, I remember our firewall catching something."

Tosh was quite proud of that. Damn good for an off-the-cuff idea. If this blew up, and Jack noticed the way all the Chandler and Bell material stopped at the firewall, she could put it down to the virus she was about to create. Tosh relaxed slightly. She and Ianto could manage this between them, even though it would probably add embezzlement to their list of felonies. What was one more, after all?

"Leave it with me, if you like," she offered.

"You're a gem, Toshiko," Owen said gratefully.

Tosh stared at the file, thinking hard. Infecting the Chandler and Bell mainframe with a virus wouldn't be too difficult. After all, she'd originally chosen them for her manipulations because their protection software was so weak. And best of all, she could now claim to fix the virus. They already had enough meds to supply Lisa until Dr Tanizaki arrived.

Making it appear retrospective would be the challenge, but Tosh liked a challenge.

-XXX-

Ianto raced from the basement. If Jack was already in the archives, he couldn't risk going back that way. He turned into the corridor that led to the containment cells, his mind busy forming his own cover story. He'd need a distraction, and his gut churned at the thought, because he knew exactly what sort of distraction worked best with Jack. Every fiber of his being rebelled against it, but Lisa was right, he'd put her at risk for the sake of a five minute visit. He had to fix it, whatever the cost.

_Don't ask anymore, for both our sakes. _She'd said that. And she could hear what happened in the Archives. Ianto choked back nausea. She knew. She must know. Did she understand, or would she hate him for it forever? _Don't ask._ She didn't want to talk about it. Perhaps that would be best. Maybe they could just start again. Put it all behind them. Do whatever they had to do, both of them, to get themselves out of this living hell.

He ran past the slumbering Weevil and stopped as an idea hit. Oh yes, that'd work. And he might even be able to get away unscathed.

-XXX-

Jack found Ianto in a Weevil cell. Alone. The Weevil they'd caught today slumbered in the cell next door. Ianto was unhurt. And undressed.

Well, partly. Jack's eyes widened appreciatively. Oh, this was worth the trip downstairs, this was.

Ianto was cleaning the cell. Jacket off, tie off. Both items hanging neatly from a hook in the wall. Sleeves rolled up, shirty unbuttoned at the throat, arms and neck glistening. Trousers tucked into wellingtons. He was wet. Well, damp.

And he _hadn't_ switched his comm. off, as such, but he obviously couldn't wear it with the ear defenders on. Made sense, Jack supposed. The whine those high-pressure water cleaners made was a bit annoying.

Jack found the water source and turned it off. Ianto swung around and the annoyance on his face didn't diminish when he saw Jack, lounging against the doorway, eyes burning.

Jack waited pointedly until Ianto removed the earmuffs. "Team meeting," Jack said shortly, swallowing against the dryness in this throat. "We've been waiting for you."

Ianto shrugged, rolling his shoulders quite deliberately and feeling a sickening sense of power as Jack's Adam's apple jerked again. Distraction accomplished, Ianto thought. Now how do I distract him from the distraction? A tiny smile graced his face. Nothing more dousing to the ardor than Weevil poo.

"If you want to keep the Weevil here, it'll need alternate quarters while the cell's being cleaned," he said coolly. "Can't leave in its own filth, can we?"

"Unhygenic," Jack agreed. "Not to mention the smell."

Jack smiled in return. Ianto's heart sank as he realized what sort of smile it was. Appreciation, definitely, but nothing to do with his Weevil wrangling skills.

"There's an internal gate between this cell and the one it's in," Ianto continued, hoping to drown Jack in the details. "So I won't have to get it sedated in order to move it. Just put its food in the cell I want it to move to, I thought."

"Good idea," Jack agreed, still watching. Ianto rolled his sleeves down. Jack smirked. Striptease in reverse.

"And it's a She," Jack corrected.

"She," Ianto repeated, tugging his tie down from the hook.

"What, no comments about my ability to sex a Weevil? I'm disappointed, Ianto."

Ianto finished dressing without another word. Jack remained immovably in the doorway.

"My shoes are out there, Sir," he prompted.

Jack jerked his head towards the slumbering Weevil. "My turn to choose a name," he suggested. "Since you got to name the pterodactyl. I was thinking Janet."

Ianto shrugged. Without the shoulder rolling this time. "Sounds OK to me."

"As in, Damn-it, Janet," Jack prompted. "Rocky Horror. Crack a smile, Ianto, that's funny."

"Whatever you say, Sir." No smile.

Jack sighed. "Tell me when you've finished being childish, won't you?"

"Me, sir? You're the one blocking the doorway."

Jack backed out of the doorway and grabbed a couple of the visitor's chairs that lurked near the cells. "Sit down," he ordered.

Ianto obeyed, suspicion in every line of this body.

Jack sighed again, theatrically. "Look, I didn't mean to offend you this morning."

"Of course you didn't," Ianto agreed, rising back to his feet. "So that's sorted then. Team meeting, you said?"

Jack sighed. "What's it gonna take? Formal apology? Fine." His voice raised an octave, designed to grate on the ears. "I'm sorry, Ianto, for the unprofessional comment. It was completely unintentional and I regret any offence. Will that do, or do you want it in writing as well?"

He seriously wanted to laugh at the expression on the young man's face. This was ridiculous. They were both behaving like teenagers. But Jack had to admit he'd been out of line this morning and laughing would only make it worse. Jack dropped his voice back to its normal register. "And I didn't actually mean it the way it sounded, really I didn't."

Ianto merely nodded and stepped towards the heavy door that separated the cell block from the main Hub. "I assume that's all then, Sir?"

"I haven't finished. Sit." Didn't obey this time. Feisty little Welshman. Damn, he was fun to have around.

"What I meant to say," Jack continued, cudgeling his mind back onto the professional path, "Is that we seem to be training you as everyone's back up. If it's too much to manage, with your current workload as well, I expect you to say so."

"I can cope," Ianto said stiffly. "I'm quite willing to do anything for Torchwood." _For Lisa, _he amended silently. Anything, for her. He'd wounded Jack's pride and he had to face the outcome. He could take it. Three more weeks.

Jack flinched at the venom hiding beneath the civilized words. He'd been trying to apologise, damn it. His own temper flared afresh. "Or any_one_?" he demanded.

Ianto paused at the door to deliver his parting shot. "You should know. Sir."

Jack was at the door himself before he even realized he'd moved. His hand covered Ianto's on the door handle. And the way his skin sizzled at the simple contact only fuelled his anger.

"If you want to stay at Torchwood, Ianto," he hissed. "You don't have to do me, but you _do_ have to work with me. _For_ me. So put a gag on the insolence."

It was really difficult to intimidate someone about the same height, Jack noted. Ianto's eyes burned with a cold fire as they met his own. Jack wondered if the air between them was actually going to start steaming.

Ianto saw the anger in Jack's face and his own rage vanished in an icy wave of fear. If he pushed Jack any further, he'd either be thrown to the ground or thrown out of Torchwood. That was why his hands were shaking. That was why his throat was dry. Fear.

Lisa, he reminded himself. Three more weeks. Twenty-one days. Deep breath, bad idea. Ignore whatever the hell was in Jack's aftershave. Must be aftershave. No one smelt like that naturally. Humor. Deflect him with humor. That's worked before.

The eyebrow raise had never felt less nonchalant. "I can assume you'll be putting a gag on the harassment, then, Sir?"

Cheeky little brat. Jack's anger ebbed, and his hand dropped back to his side. "Not a chance," he said cheerfully.

"There are actually laws against it," Ianto pointed out, yanking the door open and taking a lungful of untainted air. His head cleared.

"Sue me," Jack answered cheerfully. "Then we can settle out of court."

Ianto fled through the door. Back to the Hub, back to safety.

He couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't. Lisa had heard. Maybe she knew. Maybe she only suspected. Maybe Lisa had forgiven him for what he'd had to do. But she'd never forgive him, never, if she knew the truth. If she knew…..if she ever suspected….that he'd _enjoyed_ it.

* * *

**Yes that was mean, I know, but don't blame me, blame RTD. I'm trying to get them to the point where Jack can shove a basketball into Ianto's face without looking at him and Owen can say those horrible things to Tosh in Countrycide.**

**If I've missed any canon threads, I'd appreciate it if you let me know and I'll work it into the next chapter.**


	27. Chapter 27

**I'm trying to post more regularly, really I am. (Helped along by hints, thanks for that, it worked). Thanks for bearing with me. This chapter is mostly aftermath from the last one. Gwen's on her way. Suzie's going strange. Owen's being nice. Ianto's being snooty. Jack's being Jack. Bubble Bubble toil and trouble... Hope you enjoy it.****

* * *

**

The boardroom door opened. Jack strode in. "Found him," he announced. "Coffee's on the way."

Tosh's stomach unclenched. Lisa was safe. Jack wouldn't be calm, even a faked calm, if he'd found Lisa. And there wasn't the slightest trace of smugness in his expression, which meant that either Jack hadn't tried to restart the affair, or Ianto had resisted.

Suzie began arguing with Jack as soon as he sat down. Even Owen's eyes rolled at the wild attempts to justify the outrageous amount spent on the glove. Tosh zoned it out and wondered when she'd gotten so adept at reading Jack. Thinking back, it seemed as though she'd always done it. Maybe she had. Staying on Jack's good side used to be Tosh's first priority, back when she'd started with Torchwood. Now she was part of a conspiracy hiding a Cyberman from him. Tosh froze, aghast at the treachery of her own mind. Lisa wasn't a Cyberman, or Cyberwoman either. She was only _part_ Cyberwoman. No, that wasn't right either. Lisa was a victim. A Cyberman victim, that was it.

But Tosh had couldn't help listening to the little voice whispering about how much Lisa had changed. The Lisa downstairs didn't bear any resemblance to the woman Ianto spoke of so fondly. _That_ woman only existed between the pages of their photo album now. Lisa had changed even in the time since Tosh first met her. Less warmth, more calculation.

Of course she'd changed, Tosh told herself firmly. Lisa wasn't in as much pain anymore. And she was less drugged, because they'd been able to lower the dosage since implementing some of Dr Tanizaki's suggestions. So, without the pain or the drugs clouding her mind, she'd lost the buffer between herself and reality. The unease twisting Tosh's stomach relaxed. That's what it was. Lisa had to be more aware of her situation now. More aware of the danger. More desperate. Tosh felt it herself. With freedom so nearly within their grasp, the fear of having it snatched from between their fingers became greater every day.

Ianto trudged into the boardroom, bearing a heavy tray and wearing his granite face. He handed out coffee in silence and placed his own mug at the far end of the table. Owen and Suzie's heads snapped around to watch him, and Jack's smile dropped off his face with an almost audible thud. Ianto ignored the glances and left the boardroom again. Tosh tried not to smirk. She could almost hear the gears grinding as three sets of jaws winched back into place.

They didn't have assigned places around the boardroom table, not really. But Jack always sat at the head and Ianto usually chose one of the seats near the end, close enough to pass Jack whatever vital piece of paperwork he'd forgotten. The faithful, invisible right hand man. Tosh had even seen him passing Jack notes on the odd occasion, in each case containing something that had enabled Jack to close whatever argument was currently in progress.

Obviously whatever happened downstairs, it hadn't gone smoothly. Ianto was still angry and Jack was still feeling wrong-footed enough not to push it. Interesting. Dangerous, but interesting.

All heads swiveled to Jack, then back again as the door opened once more, reminding Tosh of the time she'd gotten tickets to Wimbledon. Ianto entered, bearing a laptop, which he proceeded to set up in front of the seat he'd chosen.

"Monitoring Constable Cooper," he explained to the four sets of questioning expressions, before finally taking his seat.

Tosh hadn't known he had it in him. An open 'up yours' delivered in public with the perfect cover story. Needed room for the laptop, of course. Tosh wondered how many of the others knew he could have done the monitoring via his PDA.

"She left the police station about five minutes ago," Ianto reported. "Heading towards home."

More tennis heads. "Thanks for the update," Jack replied, his voice a lesson in blandness. He turned back to Suzie.

"You haven't convinced me," Jack announced. "We've invested a great deal of time and resources on that glove, and I think we've seen the limit of what it can do."

Suzie glowered. "But Jack…"

Jack tapped the folder they'd been arguing over. "Private metallurgy tests, Suzie! On an alien artifact. We are supposed to be a secret organization, for God's sake."

Owen snickered.

"Owen sends out pathology," Suzie accused.

"Only on human samples, you nutter," Owen snapped back.

"PC Cooper's left her home already," Ianto put in. "Heading back here, according to the setting on her SatNav."

Jack stretched. "We need to wrap this up," he decided. "You've got one more minute to convince me, Suze. Make it good."

"I could pull back the research a bit," Suzie conceded reluctantly.

"And stop sticking it in my sterilizer," Owen grouched. Suzie glared at him.

Jack watched her thoughtfully. He was reluctant to pull her away from something she was so passionate about, but he _had_ promised himself to rein them all in – and he'd already stuffed up spectacularly with Ianto.

"I know it's your pet project, Suzie," he said eventually. "But we can't keep pouring time and money into it at the exclusion of everything else. Let's put it away for a while."

Tosh felt like cheering. She'd love to see that glove in permanent secure storage.

Suzie's eyes widened. Her hands clasped together, and Tosh was alarmed to see they actually settled into prayer position. "But it's important, Jack," Suzie pleaded. You know it is. Life and death, Jack, literally. What's more important than that?"

Jack drummed his fingers on the table. "I still think…."

"I can cut down on the expenditure," Suzie offered. The edge of desperation in her voice drew everyone's eyes to her, even Ianto's.

Jack sighed. "OK, here's my final offer. Look at the costing again. Plan out the next six months. If you come back with projections smaller than the national debt, I'll think about it."

Jack turned his gaze to Owen. "Your turn," he invited. "We seem to have ordered enough morphine to supply an opium den." His eyes crinkled. "While that's not a totally unattractive idea, I'd have expected an invitation, at least."

Owen snorted. Jack laughed. Tosh hoped they hadn't heard the gasp from the other side of the table, and carefully avoided looking at Ianto.

"We think Chandler and Bell are infected with a virus," Tosh put in quickly. She pushed a sheaf of papers towards Jack, indulging in a spot of internal back-patting for the method she'd used. Just the sort of thing a simple virus would accomplish, and she hadn't even planned it that way. "You can see it if you compare Owen's orders to the invoices. Just a matter of a decimal place moving."

Jack waved the file away. "I'll take your word for it, Tosh," he answered. "Just get it fixed, OK?"

Tosh's momentary elation drowned under guilt at the gesture of trust. But she'd picked her side, long ago, and she couldn't turn back now. She could only go forward.

"Could I…um….could Ianto help me, Jack? I've been trying to clean out that virus, but I think it's the type that replicates itself on deletion. I could use a second pair of hands."

She allowed herself a brief glance at Ianto, eyebrows raised questioningly. The bulter mask cracked, just for the second their eyes met. Tosh's glow came back full force at the depth of gratitude peeking through that crack, and with the glow came the return of confidence. They'd fix it. Between the two of them they could fix anything. Even Lisa.

Jack watched the exchange, reading the intimacy the two of them tried to hide. He felt old, incredibly old, as he nodded his approval to Tosh's suggestion. As he pulled his gaze away, his eyes met Owen's. The doctor's defeated expression annoyed Jack, especially the likelihood that it mirrored his own.

Ianto cleared his throat and looked up from his laptop. "She's baaaack," he intoned.

A gentle wave of tension-breaking laughter washed around the boardroom.

Jack stood up and brushed his hands together. "OK, then, meeting over. Ianto, I hope you can do your end of the virus-shooting from the tourism office, because I want it manned until Constable Cooper works it out or gives up."

Ianto's prompt "Yes, Sir," was balm to his ego, even if the eye exchange that followed annoyed the hell out of him.

"Of course, Jack," Tosh added. "I can easily set myself up at the back of the tourist office again."

Jack frowned. "I want you in place if Ms Cooper finds us, Toshiko," he said warningly.

Tosh gaped at him, offended but trying not to show it.

"I should be able to give her sufficient warning to get back into the Hub," Ianto said smoothly, eyebrows performing the little dance that meant he was fighting the impulse to raise them.

Owen snorted again. Owen had a wide range of snorts, Tosh thought fondly. That particular one was his 'as if' snort, but earlier there'd been the 'are you serious, Jack?' snort, and Tosh had often been on the receiving end of the 'I think you're serious but I'll pretend it's just a joke,' snort.

Suzie didn't bother with diplomacy. "Do you really think PC Plod out there can crack the secret of Torchwood faster than Tosh can stomp on a glitch?" she asked scathingly.

Jack would have wilted under the disapproval emanating from his team, if he'd been the wilting sort. On the other hand, it was kind of comforting. They'd happily tear strips off each other, but God help anyone else who tried. "Fine then," he said hastily. After all, he hadn't meant to insult Tosh, he'd just …

There was a slight clatter as Ianto collected the various pieces of his laptop. Jack's eyes followed the suit out of the door. No, he hadn't meant to insult Toshiko, he'd just been trying to curtail her alone time with Ianto. Jack made his excuses and took the tatters of his dignity back to his office.

-XXX-

There was silence in the boardroom. Uncomfortable silence.

Suzie broke it, grinning. "It's awful when Mum and Dad fight, isn't it?"

Tosh choked on nothing. "For God's sake, Suzie!" she spluttered. "Where'd you get that idea from?" She had to convince Suzie it was wrong. Ianto would be devastated.

"Bloody hell, Suze," Owen said, almost at the same time, eyes flicking worriedly to Toshiko.

Suzie looked from one to the other, a challenge blazing from her eyes.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed," she said scornfully. Her arm waved expansively, encompassing the Boardroom table. "We have a tiff in progress. Teaboy didn't even clear away the coffee cups."

"He'll do it later," Tosh said impatiently. "He could hardly wait around now after Jack ordered him to the Tourist office, could he?"

Owen regarded Tosh anxiously out of the corner of his eye. She was his friend, as of this morning. If that's all he could be to her, Owen was determined to be a good one. So, if Tosh didn't know Jack had been having it off with her Teaboy, she wasn't going to find out, not if Owen could prevent it.

Suzie rolled her eyes. "God you're an innocent, Toshiko," she scoffed. "He's been giving the boss more than coffee ever since he started, if you ask me."

Owen shook his head. "We don't want to hear your fantasies, Suze."

"No, really," Suzie insisted. "We've had Happy Jack ever since Teaboy joined us, haven't we? Come on, Owen, you must have seen it. You know the signs. You've known Jack nearly as long as I have."

When Owen didn't rise to her prodding, Suzie turned to Tosh. "You know, Toshiko, when chunks of the CCTV first started vanishing, we thought it was_ you_ Jack had his hooks in."

"Shut up, Suzie," Owen hissed.

"Well, we did," Suzie insisted. "You did too, Owen, don't deny it. Jealous, I thought at the time."

Tosh looked at Owen with something approaching shock. The idea of Owen being jealous was intoxicating, however unlikely.

"He did flirt with you a lot," Owen agreed awkwardly. "Then the CCTV started going missing." He examined the desk carefully. "We thought you were deleting the evidence."

"Well, I was," Tosh agreed defiantly. "But not because I was on it. What Jack does after hours is his own business, and the way you both used to dredge through the CCTV was as bad as spying on him."

Suzie waved a hand. "Yeah, whatever." She leaned towards Tosh, eyes avid. "So who was it on the CCTV then?"

Tosh glared back. "I'd hardly get into the CCTV to protect his privacy then invade it myself, would I?" And it was true, she hadn't paid any attention to the faces on the CCTV until Ianto became the sole – err attraction?

"Girls," Owen said uneasily. He wasn't usually averse to a catfight, but this one had the potential for serious nastiness. And not the good sort. Damn, he was proud of Tosh, though. Hadn't thought she'd got this much backbone. Just as well, she'd need it if she was going to hang on to Teaboy. Because Suzie was right in one respect, Owen did know Jack and he did know the signs. Jack might have had a fit of conscience recently, but it Owen could see it crumbling. Jack was going after Teaboy again, probably just to prove he could have him if he wanted, and nothing good would come of it.

Suzie sat back, deflated. She wasn't really prepared for a Tosh who stood her ground. "Well, I still say it was Teaboy. And it dried up just before Christmas, if you ask me. Probably didn't get the Christmas bonus he was after."

She cackled at her own joke. Tosh didn't think she'd ever heard an actual cackle before, but that's what it was. Definitely a cackle.

Tosh felt Owen's eyes on her. The concern on this face warmed her, even if she didn't know why it was there.

"You'd better watch your mouth, Lady Costello," Owen commented. "If Teaboy hears you, you'll be cleaning up after yourself."

Suzie seized on it. "That's exactly what I meant! It was all sweetness and light, all 'If you don't mind, Ianto' and 'Whatever you say Sir' for months – and now _this_. Jack's doing his own paperwork. Worse still, he's making us do ours. He's had his supplies cut off, in more ways than one, I'd say."

Owen shook his head. "Your mind must be a sad place to live, Suze,"

"Oh really?" Suzie continued, angry now. "Why do you think we had to sit through Jack's God-awful excuse for a Christmas party? It was all so he could get Teaboy drunk, wasn't it?"

Tosh glared at her. "You wouldn't know, because you took off so early, but Jack attended an alert in London all night, and Ianto manned the Hub Christmas Eve." She bit her tongue and changed tack quickly. "And I know that for a fact because I took over the next morning and Jack didn't get back from London until after I got in."

Owen carefully didn't look at her. He knew how Tosh had spent Christmas Eve, in a quivering mess after he'd thrown her back into her worst nightmares. Owen still felt grateful to Teaboy for putting her back together. He supposed he still owed Teaboy something for that. Shutting Suzie down would be a start.

Owen steepled his fingers and examined the tips carefully. Sarcasm was an art, and delivery was important. "Odd. I only remember one person snogging Jack that night, and it wasn't Teaboy."

Suzie actually blushed as she collected her files and left. Tosh and Owen regarded each other for a moment before dissolving into laughter.

**Yes I realise I'm still in the first episode here. If you consider how long it took for me to get to the start of the series, though, I'm flying through it. In the next chapter there should be all the fun bits where the team take tech home.**

**Happy New Year everyone, party safe.**


	28. Chapter 28

**This chapter mostly deals with what the rest of the team was up to while Gwen prowled around outside the Hub for 3 hours. I wanted to get further through the episode, but Owen hijacked the chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

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Tosh reveled in the shared laughter, until it dawned on her they were only laughing to avoid the prospect of speech. The chuckles dwindled into silence. Awkward silence.

"Suzie's suffering from delusions, huh?" Owen offered, not quite looking at Tosh.

Tosh shrugged. "Jack flirts with everyone," she said, trying to be casual. "No reason to assume it's more than that." Tosh paused, unwilling to add another lie to the already backbreaking burden. " And Ianto's girlfriend got taken by the Cybermen at Canary Wharf," she finished. At least that much was true.

Owen nodded sharply, uncomfortably. "In his medical files."

"So he'd hardly be…." Lost for words, Tosh blushed furiously and waved a vague hand.

"Of course," Owen agreed. His mind buzzed. It might explain Teaboy's abstinence with Tosh, at that. Maybe the wimp actually believed the old chestnut that it wasn't cheating if it isn't with another woman.

Tosh allowed her blush to die away and examined Owen's face. Odd expression. Odd tone, too. This wasn't much like Owen at all. Too….well, too nice. Too lacking in snark and sarcasm. The same manner, Tosh thought gloomily, that he'd been using with her since that disastrous Christmas Eve. It was sweet and sad at the same time. Owen was trying so hard to make up for what he obviously saw as a mistake.

Maybe it had been, Tosh conceded. But if so, it was a mistake on both their parts. It was unfair to let Owen do all the work. He'd already apologized, more than once. Tosh concluded reluctantly that it was her turn to make an effort to get things back to what passed for normalcy between them. Time to let him off the hook, completely, clearly, and finally. However much it hurt to have those lingering dreams crushed beyond redemption.

Owen wanted to be friends, he'd said so that morning. Better than nothing, far better than the tension currently tainting every interaction between them. Being friends shouldn't be awkward, especially not this awkward. Time to clear the air. That sensation in her chest wasn't really her heart sinking. It couldn't be. Hearts didn't sink. Or break.

"Flirting doesn't mean anything," Tosh said firmly, taking a deep breath and doing her best to channel Suzie. Confident. Careless, when in reality it would be impossible to care _more_. "No more than ill-advised Christmas kisses."

Owen looked away, cleared his throat, dropped the folder he was shuffling through. "Ah, yeah, um, about that…yeah…like I said….too much to drink….and."

"You've already apologized," Tosh pointed out. "It was just a kiss, Owen." She smiled, hoping he couldn't see how fake it was. "It's not as though I'm going to chase after you begging for an encore."

"Particularly given how it ended," Owen agreed, sounding much more like himself. "I don't think I've ever been bad enough to make someone cry before." He grinned, somewhat uneasily, waiting for her answering smile before he relaxed.

"We're supposed to be friends," Tosh said, the forced smile making her jaw ache. "And I've never seen you being this polite to anyone you actually like, so give it rest, OK?"

Owen laughed and rose to his feet. "Suits me," he agreed. "Back to work then. I'll go call the Chandler and Bell office. Tell 'em what you found. They should check their system, too."

Owen patted her shoulder casually on his way past. The simple touch tingled through her nerves, and Tosh despaired at herself, knowing she was locking the feel of his touch into her memory.

Tosh didn't even turn to watch him leave. She knew she should try to stop him from calling the pharmaceutical company, but she was too drained to make the effort. It didn't matter. They probably wouldn't take Owen seriously enough to do a virus sweep straight away, and she'd infect their mainframe before she left tonight, and erase it too, so it wouldn't hurt if the company started looking for it. They wouldn't find anything until she was ready.

Tosh sat in the boardroom, alone, head resting on one hand while the other scurried across her notebook, making a list of what she'd need to pull off this latest deception. A second list grew in her mind, of how she could use the windfall that was Jack's latest gesture of trust to smooth Lisa's escape.

Tears threatened. She was tired of it all, so tired of keeping all the layers of deceit straight in her head, in her heart. Myfanwy shrieked overhead, unusually loud, unusually low, making the glass partitions in the boardroom rattle. Ianto probably hadn't gotten a chance to play with her today. Who'd have thought dinosaurs got lonely?

Tosh's thoughts spiraled, just like Myfanwy's stunted flight path around the Hub.

Cheating everyone she cared about, that's what she was doing. She'd lied to Owen, convinced him friends was enough when everything within her cried out for more. And Jack, wonderful twisted amazing pathetic Jack. Jack, who trusted her, who'd rescued her from Unit. Jack, who would rely on her to make sense of all of this when Ianto disappeared, when all she'd do was continue to deceive him.

And Lisa, who relied on her so much. Lisa, who looked to Tosh to save her. Yes, Ianto had saved Lisa from Canary Wharf, but they knew what hadn't been said, even amongst the three of them. Without Tosh's intervention Lisa would have drowned in her own lungs by now. That without Tosh's expertise, they'd never have found Dr Tanizaki. Lisa thanked her more often now, now that freedom seemed so close, and Tosh hated it. Sometimes it felt as though she'd choke on the gratitude. Lisa didn't know what Tosh really thought, every time their eyes met. Though sometimes Tosh wondered, when she remembered how Lisa had sent her away, all those weeks ago. Had Lisa seen the doubts creeping into Tosh's mind before she'd been aware of them herself?

The biggest lie of all. Betraying her best friend, in thought, if not in deed. Helping him deceive everyone, helping him escape, and pretending she couldn't wait for him to get away. When really Tosh didn't know how she'd get through this lonely existence without him. When she knew that she'd stop all of it this very second, if she could think of a way that wouldn't destroy Ianto in the process.

Even if it meant sacrificing Lisa. Or what was left of Lisa.

Dr Tanizaki could give Lisa her freedom, but he couldn't restore her soul.

Alone in the boardroom with her head in her hands so no-one could see the tears, Tosh allowed herself to finally examine the thoughts which had trickled through her barriers for weeks. And still, she couldn't tell whether it was analysis or cowardice. Was she really convinced that she was embroiled in a futile effort? Or was she just afraid? Afraid of losing her best friend? Afraid of the consequences if Jack found out what she'd done?

Toshiko lifted her head, wiped her eyes, stiffened her spine and concluded that she didn't like herself very much today. She gathered her lists, her folders, and her sense of purpose, and reminded herself that the only way out was forward.

-XXX-

The door to Jack's office squeaked on its hinges. Suzie or Owen, Jack concluded, not even looking up. Tosh always knocked. Ianto knocked too, even if it was only a cursory bump of his elbow against the door frame if his hands were full.

"What're you playing at, Harkness?"

Jack finished the page he was reading and looked up slowly. "You snarked, Owen?" he asked coolly.

"I've got reason enough," Owen snapped. He stalked to the desk, planted his hands on the surface and loomed, meeting Jack's startled gaze with a scorching glare.

"If you can't keep it in your pants at least keep it out of the office."

Jack's expression was calm, even smiling, but his voice dripped sweet poison. "That's either hypocrisy, given your adventures with Suzie, or sour grapes from your _lack_ of adventures with Toshiko. What I do in my own time, Owen, or who I do it with, is none of your business."

Owen dropped into the visitor's chair with enough violence to make it rock back on its rear legs.

"It became my business when Suzie started spouting off about how she reckons you're on with the Teaboy. In front of Tosh. You were supposed to be backing off, remember?"

Owen watched Jack biting his lower lip and refused to be charmed by the blatantly fake display of innocence.

"Goddamn it Jack, leave him alone. Leave _them_ alone."

Jack tried the boyish smile. "He can always say No, Owen."

Owen glared. Jack's façade dropped.

"He did say No." Jack admitted, voice soft, eyes down.

Owen was angry enough to withstand anything except honesty. Damn Jack. It was probably his pride hurting, not his heart. Owen preferred to believe Jack didn't actually have one, at least not the type you felt with. Even so, he was finding it difficult to maintain his righteous rage.

And he couldn't help the tiniest spark of admiration for the wimpy Welshman. Not many people were strong enough to resist Jack. Maybe the prat was good enough for Toshiko, after all.

"You nearly landed me in the middle of catfight," Owen grumbled, even as his anger ratcheted down to mere annoyance. "Suzie ranted on about how you were only getting us to do the costing because you and Teaboy were having a spat. Tosh laid into her for it and I thought for a moment she was gonna scratch Suzie's eyes out."

Jack grinned, partly at the image and partly at the admiration shining from Owen's eyes. "I knew there was a lioness inside that kitty cat. Shame I missed out. You should've called me. I'd have brought popcorn."

Jack's grin was too damned infectious. Owen regretfully decided he wasn't even annoyed with him any more. "Suzie's bigger than Toshiko," Owen commented. His own smile wavered. "And crazier."

Jack's grin faded too. "Is that your medical opinion?" It hung in the air between them, a Pandora's box neither of them wanted to open.

Owen shifted uneasily. "I think you're doing the right thing backing her off from that glove. I think…..yeah….I think it's fair to say she's getting obsessed."

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Whatever projections she comes up with, they'll be too high. The glove goes into storage. And that knife with it."

Owen nodded and rose to his feet. "One less thing to worry about, then." He glanced pointedly at Jack's monitor, which was displaying the CCTV from the Plass. "And one more out there. What's she doing?"

Jack zoomed in. "Wandering around aimlessly, at the moment," he answered.

"Why don't I just slip out with some Retcon in a syringe?" Owen suggested. "No one'll question it if she passes out after that head injury."

"Retcon isn't lemonade, Owen," Jack retorted. "And if we do that, we won't find out who she's gone to with this. You know the drill. If she works out how to get in, she's earned a look around. I'll handle the Retcon later, if she needs it."

"Still leaves us stuck here while she works it out," Owen grumbled. "Sod it then, might as well start on the next dissection." He turned back for the door.

"You forgot something," Jack prompted, nudging the files Owen had dropped on the desk during his dramatic entry.

Owen sniffed. "Oh yeah, that. I rang 'em. Chandler and Bell say their network's clean. Tosh says it isn't, but she'll get in and clean it up herself. As to this stuff, we've already paid all the bills, so I don't see how we're gonna get any joy out of them."

Jack nodded. "At least it won't happen again." The money didn't really matter that much. He'd only seized on it as an excuse to pull them back into line.

"No virus stands a chance against the combined forces of Tosh and Teaboy," Owen agreed. "But don't tell them I said that." He finally made it to the doorway, only to stop and look back. "This thing with Ianto, Jack. Just let it go, OK?"

Jack smiled sourly. Owen must really be concerned if he'd remembered the Teaboy had a name.

"I'll sort it out," Jack promised.

-XXX-

Ianto's head turned as the door from the Hub open slowly. An elbow emerged through the gap, supporting a wireless keyboard. He watched, momentarily frozen between shock and hilarity, as the elbow was joined by the rest of his best friend. As Tosh swiveled her way through Ianto noticed the way her chin tucked firmly into the top of a stack of equipment balanced in her arms. It was obvious the desperate chin grip was all that prevented the stack from collapsing.

His paralysis broke as Tosh nearly tripped over one of the cables dangling from her arms, and Ianto leaped forward to help, trying his best not to laugh. "What's all this for?" he demanded, relieving her of the top half of the stack. "You looked like a totem pole. And you've still got the terminal in there from this morning."

Tosh sighed with relief as the weight vanished from her arms and lowered the rest onto the counter.

"We need a second terminal," Tosh explained, slightly breathlessly. "We're setting up our own mini-network in here. So I can work on ….um…." She paused to glance meaningfully at the CCTV camera. "Finding and destroying the virus in the Chandler and Bell network without risk to the Torchwood mainframe."

"Naturally," Ianto said, his voice drifting over his shoulder as he carried his armful of equipment into the back room. "Why did I ask?" Tosh leaned against the counter and waited, getting her breath back, until he returned for the second load.

"We have a printer, too," she added, following Ianto through to the back room. Tosh relaxed somewhat as the beads rattled into place behind her. Since their very first clandestine meeting, this room had become something of a sanctuary, a comfortable little nook where they could speak without the risk of being detected by the CCTV.

"So we can set up a paper trail to cover our tracks," Tosh continued. Ianto gave her a slightly blank look. "I assume you destroyed all the packing slips, right?" Tosh prompted.

Ianto nodded, his brow clearing in understanding. "So we'll need some to match Owen's original orders." He bit his lip. "Good thing we're practiced at deception."

Tosh tried to smile. Ianto tried to return it. He glanced around the room, mentally adding up the cost of the equipment. "How did you get Jack to agree to all this?" he asked.

"It's all spares," Tosh said dismissively. Ordinarily, she'd be glowing under the admiration, but today she couldn't even force a smile.

"Jack agreed to it because he trusts me," she added, hearing the hollowness in her own voice. Ianto squeezed her shoulder and headed away in response to the tinkle of the bell over the tourism office door. They didn't mention it again. Ianto knew how the weight of deception felt, and he knew words couldn't lighten it. Tosh was grateful for the silence. Nothing either of them said would help, anyway. All they'd accomplish was to drown in each other in guilt.

They worked companionably on their cover story while Constable Cooper worked her way methodically across the Plass.

-XXX-

Tosh lost herself in her programming, her thoughts punctuated by the occasional tinkle of bells over the tourism office door. Ianto's 'Cardiff Welcomes You' spiel drifted through her consciousness.

"I've had a few comments about how handy is it having the office open in the evenings," he commented. "Hope they don't expect it again, though." He reached over Tosh's head and retrieved a box of brochures. "Need to stock up on the reading material," he explained. "The restaurant guide on the stands is out of date." He glanced at Tosh over the cardboard box. "Speaking of which, Lisa's read everything down there, and she's starting over."

Tosh looked up and smiled. "I'll scan my books from home," she offered. "If you can sneak the recorder out of the archives again."

Ianto nodded. "Already got it," he said, nodding towards the courier bag he rarely carried. "I was going to take it home myself. Make a trip to the library or something."

Tosh eyed him uncertainly. "Why didn't you ask already?"

Ianto carried the box back to the tourism office. "You do enough," he called back over his shoulder. "You do too much."

There it was again, the ever-present offer of escape. Tosh realized, with a renewed rush of misery, that she'd rarely been this close to accepting.

-XXX-

"Constable Cooper watches too many horror movies," Ianto announced.

Tosh rose, stretching muscles stiff from sitting too long at the improvised work station, and joined Ianto at the CCTV monitor. On the screen, Constable Cooper worked her way methodically across the Plass, knocking carefully against every flat surface.

"I think she's a Scooby Doo fan," Tosh suggested. "If she's looking for secret panels."

"Not so far off then," Ianto pointed out. "We do have the secret lift."

"Yes, but it's not going to work by bashing on it," Tosh disagreed. "Still, full marks for effort. She's been out there nearly three hours now."

"And showing no signs of giving up," Ianto said gloomily. "We really could be stuck here all night."

Tosh patted his back wordlessly. She knew Ianto was still upset about the likelihood of not seeing Lisa tonight. But it was too much of a risk, even if that policewoman gave up and Jack sent them all home. Jack would still be in the Hub, and he'd be particularly alert for someone trying to sneak in tonight.

Tosh returned wearily to her task. Nearly done. She'd finished the Chandler and Bell cover up an hour ago. Just a few more tweaks and they'd have their own private communication network with Dr Tanizaki. Far more secure than the hasty one-off connections they achieved so far, and more reliable too.

Ianto ducked his head through the bead curtain. "You'd better get back down," he advised. "Constable Cooper might be onto something. She's heading for Jubilee Pizza, and they're starting to know us over there."

"I'm impressed," Tosh said, hurriedly gathering everything she wanted to take with her. "We might get home tonight after all."

Ianto didn't return her smile. Tosh understood. The prospects of him getting to see Lisa tonight were still slim. She touched his arm. "How about you come back to my place for dinner? I've actually been grocery shopping. We can have a real meal for a change."

Ianto's face lit up. "I'd like that," he said.

"And you can tell me what the hell's going on with you and Jack," Tosh added, as the Hub door swung shut behind her.

**Thanks for reading.**


	29. Chapter 29

**This should have been up days ago, sorry, but I've been having mouse-related issues. Which you might noticed I've vented on Jack's mouse! Thanks for reading everyone. Hope you enjoy**

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Jack slouched at his desk with Owen's words scorching his ears, burning into what passed for a conscience. Not that he was angry with Owen, regardless of how he'd reacted to the lecture. It was comforting to know Owen wasn't afraid to say something when he thought Jack was out of line. Even if he was wrong. Totally, absolutely wrong. Jack would never do anything to hurt Tosh.

The hypocrisy inherent in Owen's tirade was amusing, but even that wasn't too much of a surprise. In Jack's vast experience, it was the philanderers – now that was lovely word, a label he wore proudly ever since that pretty young girl's mother screeched it at him even while trying to decapitate him with an extremely solid broom. Anyway, it was the philanderer, like Owen, who most often went up in arms to protect someone else's monogamy.

No, what disturbed Jack was his own reaction. He really couldn't understand why he wasn't able to just shrug off the fact that Ianto had moved on. After all, he'd played this game a hundred times – at least, that's when he'd stopped counting. Curiosity satisfied to the mutual benefit of both parties. A game. Fun. So why did it bug him so much that Ianto didn't want to play anymore? Plenty of potential playmates out there, after all. What did one little archivist matter?

Jack contemplated the coffee cooling on his desk. He'd left the boardroom shortly after Ianto, yet the coffee was waiting for him, still too hot to drink. Mute evident that Ianto had slipped it onto his desk and escaped before Jack got back. And escape was exactly the right word, too, given the way the young man fled the cell block earlier. Obviously Ianto intended to avoid even a few moments alone with Jack, and the notion stung far more than it should.

Why did it twist him so seeing the tiny exchanges between Tosh and Ianto? The eye messages, the subtle touches they tried to hide. The ones he only noticed because he _couldn't stop watching_.

Take now, for instance. There was absolutely no need for him to switch his CCTV view from the Plass to the tourist office yet. Yes, Constable Cooper was moving in. Watching the pizza delivery was a clever idea, but she didn't have the right destination yet. Jack was rapidly beginning to appreciate the woman's tenacity. He didn't usually have a lot of time for police officers, with their 'if there's no evidence it didn't happen' mindset. But _Gwen _now, with her refusal to let the mystery go, she was worth looking at. Especially her rear view. Rack wasn't bad, either. So why _wasn't_ Jack looking? Why, instead, was he zooming in on the tourist office, and accessing the audio feed, too?

The cover story actually got business now. It was dingy still, but Ianto kept it clean and inviting enough to encourage visitors through the doorway. The fresh literature drew them further in and the fresh young face behind the counter kept them there. As he watched, Jack recognized at least one local, who surely already knew how to find her way to the restaurant strip. Jack listened to Ianto recommend a restaurant and chuckled softly as the young woman's unsubtle attempt to have the hot young Welshman accompany her went unnoticed. The man had no idea of how attractive he was.

Jack's fingers tightened around the mouse as he toyed with the volume control. Toshiko's hand dropped onto Ianto's arm. Dinner at hers, huh? Nice and cozy and domestic and _boring_. Owen had it wrong. Jack was no threat to Tosh. He had no intentions of taking anything from her – at least not anything she actually wanted. And he couldn't hear properly just at the moment, given the odd way his pulse was currently pounding through his eardrums, but Jack was sure he heard his own name mentioned as Toshiko disappeared from the camera's view. Silly girl. She could have all that sweet domesticity – there was only one thing Jack wanted from Ianto, and from all those in-depth conversations with Owen about Tosh's welfare, it wasn't the part Tosh wanted at all. Such a shame to let it all go to waste, really. Jack smiled to himself, realizing he'd played this particular game before, from the other side.

Jack's mind flitted back, his hand reaching automatically for his precious box of memories. Celia, his lovely, devoted wife, with a strong sense of the morality of the time balanced by an equally strong sense of practicality. They'd fallen in love in an era when 'ladies didn't'. It was a joy teaching her the pleasure to be found in the performance of her marital duties, but even so she'd made no protest against her husband relieving what she delicately referred to as his 'male appetites' with the sort of 'lady' who …er…'did'.

So, take Tosh, who, given her somewhat tragic past, probably 'didn't'. Or so Owen and Jack had speculated on more occasions than was strictly required by the boss/doctor dynamic. Add Ianto, who definitely 'did.' Jack told himself it was perfect. He quite fancied himself in the role of Ianto's relief valve. All fun, no responsibility. No attachment. And, as all of his internal alarms warned him, no attachment meant no danger. No threat to him, no threat to anyone, least of all whatever was going on with sweet little damaged Toshiko. Might even help. A community service. And convenient too. An in-house supply was another excuse not to join Owen on his regular prowls though Cardiffs pick-up joints.

The door closed behind Toshiko. Tosh the genius, who was Jack's friend, not his rival, whatever Owen thought. From the look on Ianto's face you'd think the sun had just risen again. Tosh would probably have candles on the table and soft music in the background. How unfortunate it wasn't going to happen. Torchwood had priority over intimate dinners for two, after all. And tonight was going to be busy, for Jack, and for his Hub back up.

Ianto _had_ agreed to be everyone's back up, hadn't he? Today, in the cell.

Putting the thought aside for the moment, Jack switched the CCTV view, noting absently that there seemed to be a crack in the casing of his mouse, and wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. On screen, Gwen Cooper chatted to the spotty boy behind the counter of Jubilee Pizza. Jack fumed as the boy confirmed Torchwood as regular customers. Ianto usually did the ordering, but Ianto wasn't that sloppy. He'd find out who slipped up later. Now it was time for the performance. In fact, they'd probably have time for a rehearsal. Constable Cooper was apparently waiting for pizzas. Nice touch, that, and it showed she already had a head for cover stories. Interesting possibilities. Not that they needed anyone else, but it didn't hurt to note potential. A set of ears inside the police force might be useful, if he could avoid the necessity for Retcon.

Jack strolled out of his office. "Places," he ordered. Owen and Suzie turned to him with startled glances.

"Dry run when Toshiko comes through," Jack explained, continuing his stroll.

Halfway around the Hub, Jack tapped the comm. unit at his ear. "Ianto?"

"Yes, Sir." Jack almost shivered. Who knew that voice could sound so cold?

"Let us know when you've let her in," Jack directed.

"I will, Sir." Cold _and_ bland. Where was the inflection? This might actually be a crime. A crime Jack couldn't tolerate.

"And do you still have access to her home network, Ianto?"

"Of course, Sir." A hint of annoyance ruffled the vowels. Jack grinned to himself at the small victory. A negative reaction was better than none.

"Good. If I decide to use Retcon, I'll need you to keep track her until she's under. If the lady's bright enough to find us, she might think to record her memories before the Retcon takes hold."

"Assuming she knows she's been Retconned, Sir."

Jack tutted condescendingly into the earpiece. "Are you suggesting I don't give her the chance to get herself home before she passes out?"

Silence.

"I'll wait then, Sir."

Jack considered apologizing for ruining the dinner plans. It'd be a nice touch. But the cog alarm sounded and dress rehearsal began. Time for some fun.

Hope blazed in Ianto's heart. He'd assumed Jack would order them all home when he took Constable Cooper away. Instead he'd just given Ianto the perfect excuse to linger. Maybe he'd get to spend tonight with Lisa after all.

Tosh would understand if he couldn't make dinner. She'd probably be relieved. It was late, nearly nine o'clock. Too late to bother cooking for yourself, let alone anyone else. No, Tosh wouldn't mind.

Awash with the prospect of mending yet another quarrel with the woman he loved, it didn't occur to Ianto to wonder why Jack couldn't just stay with Ms Cooper until she passed out.

-XXX-

No-one reacted to the cog alarm as Tosh entered the main Hub. Suzie stood at her bench, muffled behind her welding mask, sparks flying. Owen's eyes were glued to his screen, displaying a level of focus completely unlike him. Jack's office was empty, with Jack himself nowhere to be seen.

Tosh hovered near the entrance, her feet weighed down by the silence. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to say anything, irrationally afraid they'd look up at the sound and still not notice her. Was this how Ianto felt, every day?

Tosh swept the Hub with her eyes. Maybe Suzie really hadn't noticed. The mask probably muffled her hearing, and she'd chosen a particularly noisy tool today. Though, given their earlier spat it was more likely Suzie seizing on the excuse to ignore Tosh for as long as possible. Which was fine by her, actually.

Owen, though, that was more disturbing. He must have heard the alarm but he hadn't reacted in the slightest, not even a twitch of his eyes. It screamed more of cold shoulder than concentration. And they were supposed to be friends! Tosh was still sufficiently in her low mood to decide two could play at that game.

Just as Tosh finally got her feet moving, a second set of footfalls broke the silence. Jack approached with his head down, traversing his way across the Hub. He walked straight past her, not a word or a glance, drifted by Suzie and Owen, and disappeared into his office. Well, not disappeared as such. Tosh could still see him, sitting at his desk, industriously signing reports. The old tag line from a favorite series of her childhood floated through Tosh's mind – _You are entering the Twilight Zone._

This was seriously weird. Tosh looked around again, slightly wildly. Not a single pair of eyes met hers. She thought she might start screaming, just to break the deafening silence. What the hell were they playing at? Damn the lot of them. Tosh lifted her chin and stalked to her workstation. Warning herself firmly not took look at them again, she logged into the Rift monitor. She hadn't recalibrated the system for weeks, and it was in danger of slipping out of synch with their chronometer. That'd be just what they needed, to be warned of a Rift deposit with the wrong timestamp attached. It would keep her nicely occupied until they all got over whatever snit they were in.

In spite of her resolve, she couldn't help sneaking a glance at Owen, just out of the corner of her eye. And she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

Tosh had excellent aim. She'd proved it with scrunched up paper balls earlier in the day. It was unfortunate for Owen that all she had in reach was a pencil. With a nice sharp point.

"Ouch!" Owen's hand flew up to his face. The pencil point hadn't broken the skin, but it still hurt. "Couldn't you have used a blunt one?"

Suzie's equipment shut off. Tosh could hear the muffled sound of laughter coming from under the mask, which increased to full volume as Suzie pulled the metal shield off and collapsed into her chair.

Tosh's head snapped towards Jack's office. He was slumped over his desk, shoulders shaking.

"I hate all of you." Tosh yelled, furious, yet dangerously close to tears. She knew it was a joke, but given her current mood, it was almost too much.

"Jack made us," Owen protested, joining in the laughter.

"Gee, thanks Owen," Jack said whimsically, strolling out of his office to join them. His arm rested lightly across his ribs. Tosh hoped the laughter had given him a stitch.

The abrupt increase in noise disturbed Myfanwy again, resulting in an annoyed swoop. Jack didn't even falter on this path to her desk. Forget the stitch, now Tosh hoped Myfanwy was annoyed enough to break housetraining. No such luck. The wind from the pterosaur's passage merely ruffled Jack's hair, providing a moment any shampoo advertiser would kill for.

"It'd be cool if you could get her to do that again," Suzie said with enthusiasm.

"Oh yeah," Owen agreed. "The silent treatment from us, and a pterodactyl dive-bomb. She'll be wetting herself."

Jack propped himself on the edge of Tosh's desk and smiled into her outraged face. The smile did its usual job and she began to feel more foolish than angry.

"We were practicing," Jack told her. "For when Ms Cooper makes her grand entrance. Ianto told us she's gotten the scent, so we used your entry for dress rehearsal."

Tosh glared around at the grinning faces and decided it would be ungracious to maintain her annoyance in the face of all that goodwill. "I still think you're a pack of children," she muttered.

Owen snickered. "That we are. God, you were funny, though. And you still love us anyway, right?"

Tosh looked into Owen's laughing eyes and told the truth for what felt like the first time in her life. At least her life in Torchwood. "Yes Owen, of course I do." Deep breath and recovery. "All of you. How could I stand to keep working here otherwise?"

More laughter. Admittedly, the prank had relieved the residual tension from the spat in the boardroom, but Tosh couldn't bring herself to join in. She ignored the speculation in Suzie's glance and turned to the Rift program again.

"Don't start anything yet, Toshiko," Jack cautioned, tapping her shoulder, his hand lingering slightly too long. "I need to _debrief_ you." The emphasis was unmistakable, and Tosh was pretty sure he'd even gone so far as to waggle his eyebrows. Jack was flirting with her again, blatantly, in front of the rest of the team. He hadn't done that for _months_, and he knew she hated it. What had Ianto _done _to Jack that he needed an ego boost so badly?

Suzie groaned. "And so it begins," she announced, to the room in general. "All that ..um…_charisma_ has to go somewhere, doesn't it? And it's spilling out all over the Hub. Have pity on us, Owen. Take him out on the pull, would you?"

"Didn't know you were so interested in my social life, Suzie," Jack commented. His voice was smooth, but the hand on Tosh's shoulder tightened. He hadn't cut his fingernails for quite a while.

"I'm not," Suzie answered, rolling her eyes in a way Ianto couldn't have bettered. "I'm _so_ not. It's just the side effects that bother me."

"Tone it down, Jack, for God's sake," Owen grumbled. "Just 'cause you haven't scored lately, no reason to take it out on…" His eyes went anxiously to Tosh before glaring up at Jack "….on the rest of us."

Something flickered across Jack's face. He released her shoulder, and rubbed it with what could only be apology, before turning away and straightening his own shoulders as he faced the team. From flirt to business between one breath and the next. Tosh's heartbeat returned to normal. Metal creaked nearby as Owen relaxed into his chair, and the misery Tosh had felt for most of the day receded. If she couldn't have a loving Owen, she'd settle for this protective one.

Jack grabbed a chair, and dragged it to where he could sit between Tosh and Owen. Back to normal. Tosh let out the breath she was holding and sent grateful thoughts flowing in Owen's direction.

"Toshiko, imagine you were Constable Cooper coming in then, how did it work?" Jack asked intently.

"Surreal," Tosh answered thoughtfully. "Like being invisible. I almost started checking out my hands and feet, just to make sure I could see them. Except," she nodded towards Suzie. "I thought maybe Suzie hadn't heard me, with the mask on."

"I like the sparks, though," Jack protested. "Gives it atmosphere."

Suzie smiled indulgently. "I'll take it off after she's had a good look," she agreed.

"You hogged the limelight, though, Jack," Owen criticized. "She'll be watching you and she'll hardly notice the rest of us."

"And if you get the timing off, she'll walk smack into you," added Suzie.

"My timing's never off," Jack replied, the wounded tone ruined by the animation in his face.

"Hers might be, though," Tosh put in. "She's a police officer. I doubt she's going to stand there like I did waiting for you to say hello. She won't feel invisible if you have to move out of her way. And," Tosh added, releasing at least some of her annoyance, "I'd hate it if you went to all the trouble of creeping me out and it doesn't work on her."

Jack waited for the snickering to subside before nodding. "Good point. I'll start upstairs then. She can get an eyeful of you lot, and the Hub, before I distract her."

Even Tosh joined in the laughter this time. It was such a typical Jack comment. Of course he assumed anyone would be distracted by the vision of perfection that was Jack Harkness. Maybe Ianto hadn't dented his ego too badly after all.

But Tosh happened to be looking at Jack when Ianto's voice crackled over the comms, advising them of the imminent arrival of the policewoman for whom the whole silly charade was being enacted. They turned to their desks, blank faces in place, amidst whispered admonishments against laughing, while Jack's footsteps echoed on the metal staircase. But she'd seen it. Seen the trademark smile waver, reminding her of the crack in Ianto's butler mask earlier that day. But it wasn't gratitude bleeding through the gap in Jack's mask. It was something more vulnerable, and all the more ominous for that. Jack didn't do vulnerable well, if at all.

"You'll break first," Owen muttered, out of the corner of his mouth.

Tosh seized the distraction gratefully, fully prepared to join in with the infantile behavior for once. She was overwrought and imagining things, that's all. Tosh didn't want to start feeling sorry for Jack; she really didn't, at least, not any more than she already did.

"Hardly," Tosh replied, with as lofty an air as she could manage, knowing it would provoke Owen. "I can play your childish games if I have to."

Owen slid her a sideways glance, eyes glittering. "Now _that_ sounds like a challenge."

Tosh couldn't think of a sufficiently witty comeback, so she settled for poking her tongue out at him.

"Now who's the child?" Owen snickered.

"Just getting into the required mindset," Tosh answered, smiling as she logged back into the Rift monitor. The banter was nice. Almost like flirting. Almost, and enough to supply a week's worth of daydreams. Tosh's inner sage sighed at her.

Tosh squeaked as a paper pellet hit her in the ribs and glared at Owen's too-innocent profile.

"Plenty more where that came from," he gloated.

Tosh grabbed the pellet and flicked it back at him, unable to hold back a giggle as it hit his cheek. "Lucky shot," he mumbled.

"Good aim," Tosh countered. "And just remember you started this."

"And I'll finish it," Owen said gleefully, "After you crack. Crack up, that is. I have to make someone else break first, I'm rubbish at keeping a straight face."

"Settle down, children," Suzie yelled impatiently.

Tosh shot a final apprehensive glance at Owen. He winked. "You'll go first," he reminded her. He lifted a book off his desk and made sure Tosh noticed the paper ammunition beneath it before switching his focus back to the screen and reassuming the innocent face.

There were those butterflies again. Childishness wasn't so bad, after all.

-XXX-

Gwen clutched at the solid arm beneath the heavy woolen coat and stared around in astonishment as the lift rose. Below, that regal-looking woman – Suzie, wasn't it? Unfortunate choice of boots with that skirt, though– raised a hand in farewell – or possibly dismissal.

Suzie waved to the occupants of the lift as it moved smoothly towards the surface.

"They're gone," she announced. "Let's get out of here."

Owen and Tosh exchanged eye rolls. Suzie never failed to snatch the mantle of command, even for such a brief moment.

"Like I'd have waited for permission," Owen muttered. He raised his voice. "Hold the cog for us, will you, Suze?"

He tugged Tosh's jacket from the stand and handed it to her before lifting his own down, painfully aware of the bottle of pheromones stuffed deep into the pocket. Jack wouldn't be joining him on the prowl tonight, and quite frankly Owen couldn't be stuffed making the effort to pull on his own merits. It'd all end the same way, anyhow. He slid his arms into the sleeves, careful not to jolt the bottle inside. Didn't want to risk it going off here. Although, given that Toshiko was the nearest…..nah, Suzie was there too. Owen didn't want to go there again, even by accident.

Suzie waited impatiently at the cog, the sensors already protesting at the body mass preventing it from rolling shut. Normally she wouldn't mind waiting for Owen, but her bag was cutting into her shoulder. She knew the glove was heavy, but somehow she never noticed the weight when she was wearing it. Still, she had to take it home tonight. Jack wanted to take it away from her so every moment was precious.

Tosh fretted as they made their way to the exit. She had to get the data recorder from Ianto on her way out, and she didn't want the others to see her. Not that either of them would call her on it, not tonight. Suzie's shoulder slumped under the weight of her bag, and there was a rectangular lump beneath Owen's jacket, too.

That pheromone spray again. Might as well be insecticide, the way it killed those butterflies in her stomach.

As it turned out, Tosh didn't need to find an excuse for staying behind. Both Suzie and Owen rushed past as she paused to say goodbye to Ianto, and were outside before she had to come up with a reason to linger.

"You left some gear in the back office," Ianto said neutrally.

The data recorder, of course. Tosh let herself through the gap in the counter and went looking. The device was packed into its own little microfibre bag, in which it could easily be mistaken for a camera, albeit a large one. Clever Ianto.

"Shall I wait for you?" Tosh called.

Ianto ducked through the curtain. "No point," he said calmly, with an annoying lack of regret. "Jack's ordered me to track Gwen Cooper."

Tosh's eyes flashed. "Couldn't he take care of that himself?"

Ianto shrugged. "Guess not."

Tosh moved closer and waited until they had eye contact. "What's going on, Ianto?"

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing good," he admitted. "He's….I…." he paused, hands dragging through his hair in frustration as he sought for an answer. "Too much," he concluded, defeated.

Good summary. It was just about how she'd felt all day. Tosh reached up and cupped his cheek, saddened by the way he almost snuggled into it. "Tell me later, OK?"

Ianto smiled weakly. "It doesn't matter. Let's just forget it, huh?"

"We can't," Tosh insisted, somewhat regretfully. "Whatever happened, it's stirred things up down there," her head jerked back towards the Hub, "and how am I supposed to stop it if I don't know what happened?"

Ianto sighed. "You're right, of course," he admitted. "Not now though."

Tosh leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Not now," she agreed. "Later. Come over when you're finished. Dinner's still on, no matter what time."

Ianto blushed guiltily. "I do want to, Tosh, really, but if Jack dismisses me before he gets back, I could spend tonight with Lisa after all."

Tosh forced a smile. "One of those blokes who ditches their friends for the girlfriend, huh?" Damn it, she _needed_ a friend tonight. And maybe it was selfish, but he was leaving soon, and he'd already seen Lisa today,_ and_ spent last night with her.

Ianto's blush darkened further. "We had another run-in," he admitted. "She said…."

Tosh sighed as her friend stumbled back into silence and pulled him into a hug. His desperate grip hurt in more ways than just the pressure on her ribs. "You haven't had a good day either, huh?" she said into his shoulder.

Ianto pulled away and blinked at her. An age old technique for keeping tears at bay. It worked, too.

"Compromise," Tosh offered. "Call me when you know, OK? We'll do dinner if you can't get down to Lisa, otherwise we'll just talk after Lisa's asleep. Like we used to, remember?"

Ianto's eyes brightened. How ironic. In those early days, they'd been too scared to leave Lisa alone at night because the respirator was so unreliable. Yet now, those nights alternating in the basement, those extended phone reports, they were the stuff of fond memories.

Tosh remembered how much she'd liked Lisa, back then.

* * *

**They're all spiralling downward like crashing helicopters, I know, especially Jack. Poor love, if his head was any deeper in the sand they'd have to dig him out. I was mean ****to everyone in this chapter, but I promise it isn't just for the sake of it. Season One was dark...so blame the usual suspect for the misery. I tried to throw in a few light moments, which you might have missed if you blinked. Hope you liked it, anyway.**


	30. Chapter 30

**A bit of everyone in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

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Tosh perused her bookshelf. Old classics, she decided. A bit harder to read, but it wouldn't do any harm to slow the pace at which Lisa got through them. There'd been some Dickens in the first batch of books she'd scanned for Lisa, so she probably liked his work anyway. Tosh started with 'A Tale of Two cities' and worked her way methodically through her bookshelf while the pasta sauce simmered. She'd start the pasta itself when Ianto arrived.

He _would _arrive. He was her friend and he wouldn't ignore her when she'd made it so embarrassingly obvious that she needed him.

Tosh winced as she reached for a volume on the top shelf of her bookcase. She must have wrenched something carrying all that computer equipment earlier today. What a day it'd been, and none of it good.

The events of the day played over and over in Tosh's mind, occupying her thoughts while her hands operated the scanner. The whole day was just one disaster on top of the next, but that debacle in the boardroom stood out the most. Her shoulder hurt, her mind hurt, her heart hurt. It was all going to hell. She felt so guilty for all those disloyal thoughts about Lisa. The ongoing tension between Jack and Ianto made her feel sick. Especially given the way it had seemed to trigger Jack back into flirting with_ her_. Owen stopped him though. That was nice, a bit of light in a day of darkness.

She'd hated fighting with Suzie, hated even more how elated she'd been when Owen joined in. Owen. Why did every thought lead to Owen? Tosh wanted to shriek with despair when she thought about what she'd agreed to with him. She'd given up on all hope of anything better, anything remotely approaching what she really wanted, just to relieve some of the screaming tension. All because of what happened during that stupid meeting. And right now, Tosh felt as though Ianto was the direct cause of it all. If he'd just turned up for the team meeting the way he was supposed to, the way he always did, for goodness sake, none of it would have happened.

And the way they were all jumping through hoops over that inquisitive policewoman. The charade when she'd entered the Hub was fun in the end, though Tosh still wasn't quite over the way they'd all laughed at her during the 'rehearsal.' Tosh wondered shrewdly whether it'd all been a ploy on Jack's part to lighten the atmosphere. Then again, Jack wasn't usually that subtle. He probably just wanted to show off for the pretty lady in the police uniform. In fact, watching the way Jack preened in front of Constable Cooper, Tosh had found herself hoping he'd employ the woman in spite of everything. A new target for his flirting, at the very least, which would mean he'd leave Ianto in peace, and Tosh too. Maybe Ms Cooper – Gwen, would even welcome it, which would make Jack happy, or at least keep him occupied. And they'd need someone else in the Hub soon, after Ianto left with Lisa. If there was an extra person already in place, perhaps the rest of the team wouldn't be too bothered about tracking Ianto down.

It was unfair the way Jack made Ianto stay behind tonight though. They could have monitored Gwen from their homes, and Jack must know that. He probably could have done most of it himself, for that matter. That was how they usually managed Retcon. Slip it into a drink, follow the subject home, break in if necessary and manually remove all reminders. _Then _arrange the hack into the home system, which Tosh or Ianto could easily have done from home, too. No need to make Ianto stay at the Hub just for that, especially not this late.

No, Jack was being childish. Getting back at Ianto for whatever the hell he'd done that upset Jack so much. Ianto should have known better than to annoy Jack, though. Especially now. They were just weeks away from the arrival of Dr Tanizaki. It was insanity for Ianto to do anything that might make Jack watch him more closely. He must be getting overconfident, Tosh decided resentfully. She'd have to straighten him out, make him realize the dangers that lay between him and freedom. After dinner. Assuming he came to dinner, instead of spending the night watching Lisa sleep.

Resentment bubbled within Tosh in symphony with the simmering pasta sauce.

-XXX-

Suzie glanced distractedly at the clock on the wall. There was a Pilgrim meeting again tonight, and she hated to miss it. There was so much going on, so much she needed to talk about, and no-one she could tell – except Max.

It had been a rotten day from start to finish. It was bad enough that porter getting killed on a routine retrieval, but she hadn't even gotten a chance to use the glove on him. Then Jack suddenly getting all tight-fisted with the budget. He'd never been like that before. And the way the others turned on her when she blamed it on the obvious. Owen's betrayal hurt worst of all. They'd had something, she and Owen. If he hadn't rejected her, she wouldn't need Max, or Pilgrim. Well, not as much as she did now, at least.

The injustice of it hurt, burning her insides the same way the blowtorch had burned her skin today, when she'd been laughing so hard at Toshiko that her usual steady hand slipped. There was a burn mark on her arm, a bright blistered patch of red with one unnaturally straight side, marking the line of her protective glove. The metal of the gauntlet brushed against the burn as Suzie slid her arm in, drawing a hiss of pain from between her teeth. Then she connected -and nothing hurt at all.

The fly lasted five minutes. More than twice as long as a human. Odd, because she didn't connect with animals to anywhere near the depth she did with a human. Still, maybe she could consider using less complicated life-forms for a while and work her way back up to humans. That should make Jack happy, Suzie thought sourly. It would hardly cost a cent. Clearing away road-kill was practically a community service.

Suzie pulled her arm free of the gauntlet, noting with surprise that the burn mark was nearly gone. She stared at the faded pink patch, so recently red and irritated, while her mind worked furiously. She'd long suspected that the glove could work both ways, had planned for it, just in case.

Her eyes floated back to the clock. She could still make the meeting, part of it at least. See Max, talk about this exciting possibility. But the warm metal called her, too. It might be her last night with the glove, if Jack followed through on his threat to take it away. On the other hand, using animals as test subjects might quench Jack's sudden thirst for economy. Suzie stood, frozen, not realizing she was stroking the glove as though it were a pet, until her finger caught in a join.

The bite of the metal against her skin cleared her mind. Suzie tucked the glove away firmly. She had to stay focused on the larger picture, the end goal. Even if Jack took the glove away, he'd hardly try to destroy such a precious artifact. It would be stored safely somewhere in the Hub, and Suzie was sure she could retrieve it at her leisure. Teaboy being on the outs with Jack could only help. He'd never told Jack about her taking the glove home when they'd been shagging each other's brains out every night, so he'd hardly start now. Might even help her get the glove back out of storage, if she asked nicely. Even if she had to do more than ask, it wouldn't be a hardship. He was an appetizing little morsel; she wouldn't mind having a taste of that, not at all.

-XXX-

Owen leaned back in the taxi between the warmth of two bodies and relished the hands that fought over him. He had no qualms about using the spray on these two. Owen knew from experience that people could ignore the pheromones if they really wanted to, a knowledge gained from many a slapped face when he'd unwisely pushed a devoted girlfriend too far. Now he simply avoided anyone who was obviously part of a couple. Not from the morals of the thing, but it was a waste of the spray to use it on someone more likely to slap him than snog him.

But what's-her-name hadn't so much as given him the 'I'm waiting for my boyfriend' brush-off. Owen knew the look in the bloke's eye, too. He would have run away rather than wasted another blast of pheromones if he hadn't seen the curiosity along with the anger. It was going to be one spectacular night. Hooray for mindless sex. Exactly what he needed to block out the oily voice whispering about how this spray was just the thing to get past Tosh's fears. Even Owen's shaky morals couldn't justify that. She had to work through it on her own terms, or not at all.

He could think about it though. And he did.

-XXX-

Jack watched Gwen – he couldn't even think about her as Constable Cooper any more – with a certain amount of regret as she drained her beer. Bless the Welsh and their legendary head for alcohol, even though he really shouldn't be encouraging this after a head injury.

He'd had hopes for this one. Hopes that went beyond a window into the police force, hopes fuelled by the sparkle in her eyes and the way she _hadn't_ leapt to the defense of her 'stupid' boyfriend. And the almost unconscious hope that feasting on _this _Welsh accent would dull the appetite for the other.

He couldn't explore that possibility, not after feeding her Retcon. Jack wasn't the most moralistic of men, especially not by this century's standards, but he drew the line at seducing someone who wouldn't remember it the next morning. It was a matter of pride as well as morals. A night with Jack Harkness wasn't something to be forgotten.

No choice but the Retcon, though. Gwen just didn't get it. With everything she'd seen, she still spouted that rubbish about drugs in the water. And she was too stuck in the now. Give her a chance and she'd plunder Torchwood to protect the petty trials of the present, when their purpose was to marshal their resources to defend the future.

Jack watched Gwen hurry away and debated following to ensure she got home safely. But she was steady on her feet as she ran, and her home wasn't that far away. She'd easily be able to make it to her door before the sedative took effect. Ianto would let him know if there was a problem. Ianto. Ianto alone in the Hub.

Jack's mouth curved in a predatory grin as he considered his next move. His fingers danced over the keys of his phone, sending Ianto a text that would keep him in place until Gwen passed out. Jack hardly heard the invitations issuing from various dimly-lit doorways as his feet sought the path back to the Hub. More surprisingly, they failed to spark the least interest.

Jack thought about that as he strode along. His recent forays through Cardiff's nightlife were more for Owen's benefit than his own. He'd stopped those in the hopes that Owen would cut back on his drinking sprees without Jack beside him, and Jack had to admit he didn't miss them in the least. He'd lost his appetite for those brief encounters. Too easy. No challenge, no real reward. Nothing beneath the surface.

Unlike the enigma waiting back at the Hub. The more Jack thought about that little performance in the Weevil cell, the more intrigued he became. A performance was exactly what that was, and all for his benefit. Carefully choreographed to get Jack's attention and it had worked, too. Maybe Ianto had come to the same conclusion as Jack. Too much of a gentleman to push the issue with Toshiko, too much of a _man _to go without indefinitely and too devoted to dump her because of the lack. On the horns of a dilemma and the solution was making his way back to the Hub. Jack grinned to himself as he realized his stride had lengthened until he was practically running. Nothing wrong with a bit of enthusiasm. The thrill of the chase was singing through his veins, and it was exactly what he'd been missing.

What Toshiko didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Toshiko. Jack swallowed against the taste of guilt as he remembered how he'd deliberately ruined Tosh's plans for tonight. He mustn't do that again. But he reminded himself that he wasn't taking anything she wanted, and he was giving Ianto – and himself – what they both needed. Something for everyone. Win-win, the books called it, though he doubted the bloke who wrote that Seven Habits book would quite approve of Jack's interpretation.

-XXX-

Ianto sighed as another late-night reveler tapped on the door, drawn by the light shining through the smoky glass. He'd locked up over an hour ago. Ianto raised a hand and pointed firmly at the 'Closed' sign. Muffled oaths floated through the gaps around the doorframe, but Ianto merely shook his head and ducked back behind the counter. The intoxicated youth of Cardiff could find their way to a kebab shop without his assistance, as they did every other night.

Ianto stared at his terminal, anxious and bored and in danger of falling asleep sitting up. The tracking system told him that Gwen Cooper was currently in a pub and hadn't moved for a while. Either that or she'd left her phone behind. There was no activity at her home computer either, so she wasn't home yet.

He didn't dare sneak down to Lisa. Jack hadn't actually said he'd call when he slipped the policewoman the Retcon, which meant he assumed Ianto would be monitoring constantly. Which he was, of course.

Ianto yawned and hoped Jack would have the decency to call if he didn't end up using Retcon after all. He wouldn't put it past the arrogant git to just swan back yell at him from the Plass. Ianto toyed with his phone, wondered whether a text to Jack asking for progress would fall within the category of insolence, and decided that it probably would. Not worth the risk. Ianto was well aware he'd pushed Jack to the point of snapping today, and he didn't fancy the consequences of nudging him any further over the line.

Ianto glanced uneasily at the clock and his conscience nudged him into sending Tosh a text telling her to eat without him. The return message brought a smile to his face. _OK. I'll cook your pasta when you get here. Don't want it getting soggy._ Tosh seemed determined to wait for him. But it was so late. He really should just tell her he couldn't make it. Let her get a decent night's sleep.

Ianto waged a war with his conscience as his fingers hovered over the keys. It was unusual for Tosh to be this persistent. For the first time, it occurred to Ianto that maybe there was more behind tonight's invitation than a desire to make him eat properly. She'd been upset, and she'd said something about having a bad day. But there was still a chance he could slip down to be with Lisa. Lisa was alone, and trapped. And he couldn't leave things the way they were with Lisa. He had to find out if she'd heard….what she'd heard.

Tosh had other friends, he reasoned. Lisa had no-one. Then again, Lisa was probably asleep already. And Tosh had done so much for him, risked so much. Ianto's hand crept to the back of his neck, fingers working awkwardly in an attempt to banish the beginnings of a headache.

Guilt surged through him in ever-increasing waves. He didn't want to go to Lisa tonight. He didn't want another argument, couldn't bear another argument. He wanted to go to Tosh's, eat pasta washed down with a nice glass of wine and pretend he was normal. To be with someone who wanted nothing more from him than company and a listening ear. Someone who didn't expect him to save them, _or_ screw them.

Another text buzzed through his phone. Jack, this time. _Retcon administered. _How about that, a jot of consideration after all. The tracking system confirmed that Gwen Cooper was moving, fairly quickly too. Heading home. Ianto straightened in his chair, weariness banished by a rush of adrenaline. If Ms Cooper succumbed quickly enough, he could be down with Lisa before Jack returned. Especially if Jack didn't come straight back, and why would he? Plenty to distract him in the area where he'd left the hapless Constable Cooper.

It appeared that his decision was made. If he could get down to Lisa before Jack arrived, he would. That was what Tosh had agreed to, anyway, and the agreement was probably the only reason she was waiting.

Movement on the screen. Gwen was typing up her memories, as they'd suspected she would. Good notes too, for someone struggling against a sedative. Ianto watched as the sentence structure became progressively more garbled, more repetitive. Watched the spelling deteriorate. Time to act.

He deleted the file and imagined the reaction at the other end. Had she fallen asleep already or was she frantically trying to wake up her computer, ready to search the recycle bin the hopes she'd accidentally sent the file there? No chance of that, Ianto thought proudly. Tosh's Home Intercept program was brilliant, searching for and deleting backups of any file that matched the on-screen version. Even if she'd saved the document after every line, the program would find and remove all traces, as if it had never been written.

Ianto reached for his desk lamp, plunging the office into darkness. Jack wasn't back. He could make his way down to Lisa. Surely the only reason he was so reluctant was because of the words exchanged earlier. No-one rushed to resolve an argument, did they? Perhaps Lisa had already forgotten what happened today. She'd said she didn't want to talk about it, so she wouldn't make an effort to remember.

Ianto slid out of his chair and stretched, wincing at the series of clicks and pops as his back protested against the lack of movement this evening. He turned in annoyance at another sound from the door. They wouldn't even give up with the office in darkness. Someone must really need that kebab.

It wasn't a tap this time, though. It was the sound of a key turning in the lock. Must be Jack. None of the others would come back to the Hub this late. But why was Jack using this entrance instead of the lift?

Jack swaggered through, accompanied by the scent of pizza, a six-pack of beer dangling from the hand clutching the soggy cardboard box. Ianto ignored the inclination to help in favor of the impulse to keep the solid wooden counter between them.

"Is she out?" Jack demanded, using his free hand to lock the door behind him. The snap of the lock sliding home sounded suspiciously like the jaws of a trap closing. Ianto switched the lamp back on, the soft click magnified by the silence.

"I think so, Sir," Ianto reported formally. "She tried to type up a reminder for herself, which I deleted, and she's made no move to activate her terminal again." His eyes flickered to the counter as Jack dropped the pizza onto the polished wooden surface and placed the beer next to it. Ianto knew he'd be waxing the counter again tomorrow, in an attempt to remove the layer of grease and the rings left from the beer bottles, but he also knew Jack was doing this to provoke him. And he refused to take the bait.

"Good work," Jack said expansively, propping his elbows on the counter and leaning forward. Ianto fought the impulse to move away as his boss invaded his personal space. "Saw your light on," Jack continued. "And since I hadn't given you a chance to grab something to eat," he waved at the food soiling the counter, "I thought you could join me."

"Considerate of you," Ianto conceded, his back as stiff as his voice. "But I'd rather get home." His hands clenched around the edge of the counter, and he realized it'd been a mistake to stay behind it. If he'd opened the door for Jack, he could have slipped past and escaped.

As it was, he couldn't even escape Jack's gaze. Jack leaned further over the counter, and it felt as though the man was trying to see straight into his soul. But if it was true that the eyes were the window to the soul, Ianto had his blinds drawn. Even so, he couldn't tear his own eyes away. He might drown in those sea-blue depths, drown in a maelstrom of deceit he couldn't admit to and desire he _wouldn't_ admit to.

Why was this so difficult? Ianto wondered. Why didn't he just go through with it, give Jack what he so obviously wanted? He'd done it countless times before. He could go to Lisa after, when Jack was asleep. Or check on Lisa and go back to Tosh if he wanted. Jack wouldn't question his actions, wouldn't care, not from the depths of contentment he'd taught Ianto to deliver. It would solve everything, as it had for so long. What was so different now?

Ianto jumped slightly as Hub door swung open, then again as the silence was further assaulted by the shriek of wood scraping against wood. Jack had lifted the flap in the counter, while his other hand slapped the button that opened the door to the Hub.

"Come on out, Ianto," Jack coaxed. His hand closed gently around Ianto's bicep, tugging, slipping on the smooth fabric of the suit, or so it seemed. Why else would that hand be sliding down his arm, circling his wrist, drawing him forward, closer? It couldn't be a caress. They didn't do that, ever. Caresses were for women, for one woman. For Lisa. Caresses and kisses for the woman downstairs. He'd do anything for her, why couldn't he do this?

Ianto obeyed, numbly. Obeyed the command implicit in the words and the touch and the burning blue gaze. Maybe those eyes had hypnotic properties. Or maybe it was the pheromones. It certainly wasn't the cloying scent of the pizza. And it wasn't his own will that took him into the circle of Jack's arms. Not his own choice that brought his hands up against Jack's chest. Since they were there, though, he should use them to push Jack away, get past him, get out.

His hands must have obeyed his thoughts, because the arm around his waist dropped away and Jack moved backwards slightly. Ianto inhaled air relatively free of pheromones and shook his head, trying to break whatever trance he'd dropped into, trying to clear his mind. He was through the gap in the counter and Jack was between him and the door. But the eyes hadn't dimmed, and there were still strong fingers burning a path around his wrist.

The door to the Hub gaped open. If Jack got him down there he wouldn't get out, not without…..Maybe he could get away with a quick grope, here, in the office, and be out the door and away while Jack reveled in his imagined triumph. Ianto's stomach roiled, fear and guilt and hunger all at once, and the smell of the pizza might actually make him throw up, which would be a perfect excuse to go home. Even Jack wouldn't want him fouled by the remains of lunch.

Jack must have sensed how close he was to bolting, because he wasn't doing anything more than keeping that grip on his wrist. But it was enough, because that grip was leading him toward the entry to the Hub, away from the exit, away from escape. And he couldn't do it, not again, not even for Lisa. His feet locked, and his ankles and his knees and the sudden stop brought Jack to a halt.

Jack turned, and smiled. Not the arrogant smile. A soft one, a nice one, all the more frightening for making Jack look less like the enemy. "C'mon, Ianto," he urged, still with that smile. "Pizza and beer. I bought you dinner, not a great one admittedly, but that's more than I'd do for most people." He tugged lightly, but Ianto's legs were frozen and he nearly stumbled. Jack steadied him and looked searchingly into his face. The kid looked like hell. His voice softened further, and just for a second he forgot his self-imposed mission. "You gotta eat, kid, you're way too thin."

Jack heard the tender phrase falling from his lips and almost bit his own tongue. He didn't know what he'd meant to say, some sort of innuendo, probably, but not….that. Flirting. Fun. A relief valve. Not this. Never this.

He would have been surprised to know that the thoughts rushing through his brain mirrored Ianto's.

Ianto expected the flirty voice, and it was. But there was concern in the words, caring beneath the tone. Alarms thundered through Ianto's head, thumping in time with the returning headache, clearing away the remaining fog and bringing his thoughts back into focus. He had to get out. He could stand against any level of animosity or apathy, but not this. Not this. He had to stop it, and he knew how.

Maybe it'd take second time around. And Jack wasn't hung over this time, which had to help. The door to the Hub banged shut, startling them both. Only one way out now.

Ianto reached down with his free hand, detached the fingers from around his wrist and offered them back to Jack with exquisite courtesy and a bland smile dredged up from the shreds of his resolve. "I'm not going to eat with you, Sir. It would be inappropriate. And this," he waved a vague hand between them. "It isn't good for either of us. You know that. We've discussed it before, when things were less….fraught."

Jack's face stiffened, frozen into a half-smile. He remembered that discussion, if something so one-sided could be called a discussion. He remembered the humiliation of waking up to a hangover with Ianto watching him through eyes of ice. Remembered how the hammers in his brain beat out the words Ianto had spoken. Those same words, among others. And under the polite dismissal, Jack heard the message that this sort of weakness wasn't enough to keep a big strong Welshman entertained. Heard it and pushed it away. And here it was again.

"You're gonna keep holding a drunken sob session against me, huh?" Jack tried for a careless tone, but it didn't work.

Ianto didn't want to think about that night. The memory hurt. He'd had to do it, for his own sanity, but whenever he thought about it he felt as though he'd kicked a puppy which had crawled to him after a beating. Humor, he thought. Make it easier – on both of us.

"I'd prefer not to hold anything against you," Ianto quipped. Jack's smile thawed.

"Why?" he asked, simply, blue eyes serious.

Ianto's eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet that piercing gaze.

He looked like a weeping angel, without the wings of course. Something primal stirred within Jack, something that said 'mine,' whether it should or not, and sent his hand reaching for the face of the young man before him.

Jack's hand cupped Ianto's chin, in a gesture that was part caress, part determination to bring that stubborn face back up to his.

"We were having fun, Ianto," he said, in his best velvet voice. "We still could."

"More to life than fun, Sir," Ianto mumbled.

The hand dropped away as though the skin beneath it burnt. The possibilities beneath that simple sentence were tantalizing and intoxicating and terrifying all at the same time. More than fun. Was it a rejection or an offer, and which one did Jack want it to be anyway? No, nothing more than fun. Jack was leaving when the Doctor returned, soon, could be days, weeks, months, even years – sometime this century anyway and that was far too short a time to risk….this.

What if the Doctor arrived and Jack didn't want to go?

"I don't offer more than fun," Jack said hastily. "Too much effort."

Ianto summoned up the patented eye roll. "I'm not disputing that. Or asking for it, I assure you. I've just decided I've had enough of this particular game."

Jack's senses returned in a rush, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach in the same way as it did when an elevator descended too quickly. "And you've got someone who doesn't play games, right?"

Ianto nodded, scuffing the floor with a foot. Let Jack think he'd met some girl in a bar. Let him think anything except the truth.

He looks so young, Jack thought sadly. Too young for this. Too young to fit into the elaborate type of game-playing he'd fooled himself into believing. Jack felt the tiniest spear of disgust for himself. He'd told the team to straighten up. Time he followed his own advice.

"Have a good night, Ianto," he said softly. He collected the pathetic excuse for a meal from the counter and winced at the spots beneath. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, rubbing a hand ineffectually across the greasy surface, accomplishing nothing more than spreading it further.

Ianto shrugged. "I'll fix it tomorrow." He reached back behind the counter to slap the door release. "Goodnight, Sir."

The door boomed shut behind Jack and Ianto wilted into his seat. He fumbled for his phone and hit the buttons that would connect him back to sanity.

-XXX-

Tosh glared at the number on her caller ID. He'd better not be calling her this late just to pull out.

"Is it too late for that pasta?" Ianto asked, dissolving Tosh's annoyance with the quaver in his voice.

"Of course not. I'll have another bowl with you. And I've got red wine," Tosh confirmed. "Several bottles." Sounded like they'd need it.

Ianto laughed hollowly. "I'll get a cab then. I don't feel like driving anyway."

A good idea, Tosh thought, especially if his hands were shaking as much as his voice.

* * *

**Tosh is due a meltdown, don't you think?**


	31. Chapter 31

**Lots of Lisa in this chapter. I've tried to minimise the use of italics to just her thoughts rather than the entire passage involving her to make it more readable. Hope it doesn't cause confusion.**

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* * *

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Beneath the Hub, water dripped ceaselessly, following the furrows in the rough walls. Dim lighting reflected from silver metal and gleaming brown eyes. The eyes moved, following the flicker of a cursor. As time passed, the cursor slowed and stopped. The eyes blinked, not from the need to lubricate the orbs beneath the lids, but from the demands of a body which hadn't quite forgotten its instincts. Yet.

Lisa pushed the mouse from beneath her palm, keeping it close enough that she could draw it back with her fingertips later.

_Boring. Romantic drivel. Did I really enjoy it so much before? I must have, there's so much of it in my collection. Ianto said he'd ask Toshiko for more books. I hope she's got better taste than I used to have. Love stories. Love. _

_Love is just a tool, a trap. Love brought me to this. Ianto's love saved me from the incinerators. I heard the others being taken. I felt them burn._

A shudder ran through her body, flesh and metal alike. They'd screamed as they burned. Physical screams, and mental ones too, shrieking through her ears and her brain as she huddled with Ianto in the dim corner he'd dragged her to, waiting for the building to empty.

_He saved me from that. He'll free me from this, too. Then I'll free him. I'll free him from everything. Including love. He'll thank me for it, in the end._

-XXX-

Ianto raised the wine bottle. "Top you up?" he asked.

"Please," Tosh agreed, extending her glass.

By unspoken consent, the looming discussion was deferred until after dinner. Ianto had practically fallen through the doorway, pale and trying not to draw attention his trembling hands. Tosh didn't mention it. She wasn't in a much better state herself, and she wasn't ready to talk about it yet, so Ianto probably wasn't either. They both needed an oasis of peace, a chance to play at being real people.

The truce with reality held until Ianto helped her clean up. Then Tosh reached up to return her salad bowl to its place on the top of the refrigerator, and winced at an unexpected pang from her shoulder.

"You OK?" Ianto asked.

Tosh moved her shoulder again, carefully. "I think I wrenched something today," she admitted.

"You shouldn't have carried all that stuff," Ianto scolded. He moved behind her and started working the knots out of her shoulders. "Or at least you should have made two trips."

"I didn't want to have to go back down into the Hub," Tosh admitted, pulling away and spinning around to face him, her eyes dark and serious. "You left a very heavy atmosphere in your wake."

"Me?" Ianto regarded her with wide eyes. The Innocent Mask.

Their quiet dinner had laid only a thin veneer of peace over her inner turmoil. Too thin to survive the fact that he was hiding from _her_ behind one of his stock faces.

"Yes, you," Tosh responded. "And don't waste the face on me, it doesn't work." She crossed her arms and stared at him, shouting a silent challenge with every rigid line of her body.

Ianto blinked. His mouth opened once or twice. Just like a goldfish, Tosh thought uncharitably.

Maybe this was how a kettle felt when it boiled.

-XXX-

Lisa rolled her eyes upwards, looking at the ceiling. It amused her, in so far as anything amused her nowadays, that Ianto and Tosh had crawled all over the converter so many times yet hadn't realized what lay concealed within those upper panels. She could just reach one of the triggers if she stretched out her foot. It would be safe to test it now, with the Hub so very quiet. No voices, no footsteps.

_The all left. I heard them leaving. Jack hasn't come back yet. Has Ianto gone too, or is he in that tiny office he complains about? Is he thinking about what I said? It was stupid of me to let that slip._ _I'll have to talk to him about it, I suppose, before his guilt takes him further away from me. Should I say I'm sorry, or should I say I forgive him? I can't remember how these things work. Maybe I __**will**__ read that romantic drivel after all. It might help._

_Maybe he's with Jack right now, panting and moaning and trying to convince himself he's doing it for me. But after what I said, Ianto won't let anything happen where I can hear it. He'll have to take Jack somewhere else to 'distract' him._ _At least I won't have to listen to it anymore. The sounds annoy me, that's all it is. I'm not jealous. I can't be jealous._

-XXX-

"You provoked Jack," Tosh accused, her voice rising as the pent up hurt and frustration burst from her mouth. "While we were waiting for you in the boardroom…you upset him, didn't you?"

Ianto's eyes dropped. The lack of response only fuelled her irritation. If she was a kettle, she was definitely steaming now, certainly the words boiling from her lips felt as though they would scald.

"What were you thinking, Ianto?" Tosh raged. "All this time you – we've – been working around him, and we're so close, and now you – you." Ianto flinched from her tone, and Tosh froze mid-rant, shocked at herself. She freed her arms from their death grip around her own torso and carefully lowered the volume of her voice. "You had some sort of confrontation, didn't you?"

"Yes," Ianto admitted.

Tosh ran her hands impatiently through her hair. "But why, Ianto? Why antagonize him now?"

"Because I'm stupid. And weak."

The blood rushed into Ianto's cheeks, spreading until his entire face burned red. His eyes met hers, imploring, begging for understanding. Tosh's anger drained away in a rush, as if her metaphorical kettle had scorched a hole in its base, while Ianto's heart poured through his mouth.

"Oh yes, Tosh, I provoked him. You have no idea how much I provoked him. And I thought I could….I was sure I could, if I had to…..but I couldn't…and I don't know why. I've done it before, haven't I? But I couldn't – I couldn't do it again."

Tosh's eyes widened and her mind whirled, trying to extract some sense from the babble. "Do what?" she asked blankly.

"Him," Ianto admitted miserably. His face burned brighter still, and he couldn't meet her eyes. Tosh despaired at how twisted this had become. Ianto was ashamed of himself because he _hadn't_ had sex with Jack, because he _hadn't _taken advantage of their bosses' obsession with him.

Mind you, she'd just finished yelling at him for making Jack angry. And if she was honest with herself, she must have known there was really only one way Ianto could disturb Jack that much. Tosh realized with a definite sinking feeling that her moral compass wasn't pointing to true north either.

"I'm sorry," Tosh mumbled. Guilt flooded into the space so recently brimming with anger. How could she have spoken to him like that? "I'm sorry, Ianto. I….I shouldn't have said anything. I had no right. I'm so sorry." She wanted desperately to hug him, to soothe away the hurt she'd caused, but her hands froze midway between them. She'd lost the right to comfort him when she caused the pain.

Ianto shook his head and grabbed for her hands, holding them tightly. "No, it was my fault. I was stupid, I did something stupid, and I thought I could fix it, but I couldn't go through with it. And if you thought he was angry with me before…. now he'll be worse." The stoic Welshman was on the edge of tears again, she could tell. Her fault, this time. _Damn_ Jack. Oh yeah, that made sense, when she'd just torn into Ianto for upsetting Jack. Damn herself, then. Now it was done, Tosh knew she wasn't justified in attacking him. She'd just been blowing off steam, scorching someone who wouldn't fight back.

Tosh twisted her fingers until she could squeeze his hands. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I just had a lousy day and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Ianto. I really am."

Ianto gulped in some breaths. "It's OK. You had to snap sometime. God knows I've done it often enough."

Tosh sighed, a huge exhalation of breath and stress. She felt weak suddenly, and tired, as if the emotions within were the only thing holding her upright. "Come sit down?" she suggested.

They collapsed side by side onto her couch, not talking, not even looking at each other. Ianto felt slender fingers brush his, tentatively, and clasped them in his own. He risked a sideways glance, only to see Tosh doing the same thing, and something in her face prompted him to pull her into his arms.

That was all it took. Tosh collapsed into his shoulder, in what she would later describe as a blubbering mess, rambling between sobs about how horrible it was to have Owen being nice to her.

"That's enough to shake anyone's faith in the world," Ianto agreed gravely, when the torrent of tears slowed to a trickle.

Tosh sniffed, tried to laugh but couldn't quite manage it. Ianto slipped a neat white handkerchief into her hand and Tosh proceeded to soil it beyond redemption.

"I should have used a tissue," she mumbled later. She regarded the stained and soggy piece of linen in her hand and sighed. "I'll wash it," she promised. "Or buy you a new one."

"Don't be daft," Ianto said, tucking the hanky back into his pocket and kissing the top of her head. "I clean up far worse than that in the Hub." He gave a mock shudder. "Myfanwy had an upset stomach last month. You should have seen her nest."

Tosh did manage a laugh this time. A weak, hiccupping laugh, but the best she could do.

Ianto pulled away and regarded her gravely. "You don't have to do this, Toshiko. You can get out anytime."

Tosh shook her head, an automatic reaction, only to realize her heart wasn't in it anymore. Fresh tears filled her eyes. She wanted it to stop. No, she wanted for it to never have begun. Weak. She was so weak. He'd come to her for help and she'd attacked him. She didn't deserve a friend like Ianto.

Ianto saw the hesitation and felt his heart sink. He'd feel so alone without Tosh. But it was for the best. The best for her. He only had a few more weeks to get through and he'd have the comfort of knowing Tosh was safe after he'd gone. If she truly didn't remember anything, Jack would never know she'd helped Ianto escape. Yes, this would be for the best, even though he didn't know how he'd get Dr Tanizaki in without her. He'd manage somehow. He and Lisa, they'd manage.

-XXX-

_No, I'm not jealous of what Ianto does with Jack.. It does me no harm, after all, and he seems to enjoy it so. I remember how much he enjoyed it, with me. He might as well have it while he can_. _He'll have no need for it later. Metal has other joys. Better joys. _

_Ianto will understand, soon. His last use for Jack will be gone and he'll be mine again. As we used to be. As we __**will**__ be. Forever._

-XXX-

Ianto flew into action before he had a chance to change his mind.

"Have you still got that Retcon?" he demanded, already rummaging through her kitchen cupboards. Tosh blinked as realization caught up with emotion. He wanted to make her forget him! She hadn't meant _that._ Tosh wasn't sure what she wanted, but it wasn't to forget him. How would he get Lisa away without her help? Self-sacrificing idiot.

"No, Ianto," Tosh spluttered, stumbling into the kitchen after him.

"We'll do it tonight," Ianto continued firmly. "I'll stay until it takes effect then I'll clear away any sign I was ever here."

"Stop it," Tosh demanded. She slammed the cupboard door shut, not caring in the least whether Ianto got his hand out of the way on time.

Ianto snatched away the fingertip she'd caught and eyed her up and down, coolly appraising. The lack of emotion in his gaze was chilling. It was the same, Tosh realized, as the way he looked when he had to work on Lisa's cybernetic components. Shutting out emotion.

Tosh followed his eyes with her own and saw them stop somewhere beneath her chin. "I'll need that back," Ianto announced, raising a hand to her neck.

Tosh felt his fingers fumble on the clasp of the chain around her neck and slapped her hand protectively over the locket he'd given her for Christmas. "No," she repeated, backing away. The silver felt warm beneath her palm, as warm as the smiles on their faces in the photo it contained. She didn't want to forget him. She wouldn't.

"We have to get rid of anything that might trigger your memory," Ianto said stubbornly.

"I'm not taking the bloody Retcon," Tosh shrieked.

They stared at each other in shocked silence as the earsplitting screech echoed through the flat.

-XXX-

Lisa pushed her musings to the back of her mind. She had a more important task to attend to now, while the Hub was empty. She couldn't test this while the Hub was occupied. Someone would be bound to wonder about the power drain.

Lisa stretched her lower body and flexed her foot, rewarded by the give of the panel beneath the area that used to be her toes. Arms unfolded obediently from the ceiling, long, graceful metal arms, so much more practical than these fleshy excesses. The arms searched beneath them, close enough that Lisa could feel the breeze of their passage on her skin, register their proximity with her sensors. She hissed in frustration as the probes found nothing to correct, and withdrew. Lisa watched them with yearning as they retracted seamlessly into the ceiling panel. She wasn't perfect, not yet. So the converter wasn't perfect either.

It had to be tested. She couldn't put Ianto into the converter until she was sure it functioned perfectly. After all the effort her boyfriend had gone to for her, it would be a shame to delete him because he was faulty.

Lisa considered her options. Test subjects were limited, confined to this Hub. Between what she could hear herself, and what Tosh and Ianto spoke about, Lisa was confident she could match all the voices from the Hub with a name. Except for that new one, today. Whoever it was, she'd only been there for a short time. She probably wasn't worth considering. But if she came back, she could be the first test subject. Assuming Lisa wasn't still occupying the converter, of course.

Dr Tanizaki would arrive soon. He was an unknown quantity. Lisa decided that if the doctor gave her back her mobility, he would be rewarded. A fitting reward, to experience first hand the functioning of the equipment he'd lusted after for so long. If it didn't work, well, that would be his own fault, wouldn't it?

Toshiko was too good to waste. That brilliant mind would be an asset in the new world. Toshiko mustn't go into the converter while it was possibly faulty either. Nor should the other woman, Suzie, though it would be preferable to lose her rather than Tosh or Ianto. There was something about the way Suzie spoke – the hint of steel in her voice, perhaps – that made Lisa sure Suzie would be an asset to the new world, too.

Owen, though, the one who made Tosh sad. _He_ could go into the converter after Dr Tanizaki. No great loss if there were any problems, and after two tests Lisa was sure she'd have it running perfectly.

-XXX-

Owen spared a last glance for the couple in the bed. Asleep. Asleep together. Owen grinned to himself. Sweet. Maybe after tonight those two would go hunting for a third more often.

Later, as Owen stored the spray back in his cabinet, his conscience decided to emerge from hibernation. And it insisted on examining his earlier aversion to exposing Tosh to the spray.

OK, so he wouldn't use the spray on someone he liked. Fair enough, he wouldn't use his usual pick-up routine with someone he actually wanted to see again either.

The spray relaxed inhibitions. It didn't suspend free will, or make the recipient incapable of making a choice. So it was no different to the fine art of getting his target boozed to the point where their inhibitions evaporated, but not to the point where they were beyond co-operating. He'd never shagged someone who'd passed out drunk or even anyone still conscious but past the point of making a rational decision. Owen wanted to be wanted. It was a matter of pride.

Owen took himself to bed to wrestle with the newly awakened sense of guilt.

-XXX-

A sound from far above shattered the silence of the basement. Lisa knew what that grinding sound meant. Someone had opened the doorway Ianto called 'the cog'. The alarm. Footsteps. Lisa closed her eyes, the better to focus her hearing. One set. Had Ianto come back after all? Was Jack with him? Lisa strained her ears, listening to the footfalls, trying to determine their owner. Still only one set, and not coming downstairs, so it probably wasn't Ianto. And they were boots, Lisa decided. Boots made a different sound to Ianto's customary leather dress shoes. Jack, then. Jack. Lisa knew exactly what she would do to Jack.

_Jack will never feel the embrace of the converter. Jack has no place in the new order._

_Jack will be the first deletion. I have to test__** that**__ on someone, too._

-XXX-

Jack traipsed across the empty Hub and wished for a Rift alert. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be stuck on Earth anymore. There was nothing to stay for. Jack thought, not for the first time, that maybe there never would be.

He wished suddenly, and deeply, that the Doctor would arrive right now, this minute. No goodbyes. He didn't want to say goodbye to the team. He didn't want to have to face them again.

Jack didn't want to have to tell Suzie she couldn't work with the glove anymore.

Jack didn't want to watch Tosh's eyes shine when he praised her brilliance. He didn't deserve her respect. He'd tried to make her boyfriend cheat on her. It didn't matter what self-serving justification he'd come up with. He'd tried to break Tosh's heart, and she'd suffered enough.

Jack didn't want to have to face Owen. Owen, his friend, who in his own way had tried to protect Jack from…..this. From making a fool of himself. From feeling more rejected than he'd felt in longer than he could remember. From feeling like a coward.

Jack didn't want to face Ianto.

-XXX-

Ianto and Tosh faced each other across her tiny expanse of kitchen, both of them leaning against a counter as though they couldn't stay upright unassisted.

Ianto sighed. "You've had enough, Tosh. I can see it. Let me do this for you, please. Before," his voice broke slightly. "Before I lose the courage."

Tosh hadn't quite recovered from the fact that she'd screamed at him. She really had lost the plot tonight. And therein lay her escape, however temporary.

"Ianto, listen," she pleaded. Her voice was back to its normal register. That was good.

"I did," Ianto answered. Tosh shrieking like a fishwife was so unlike her he couldn't stop a smile creeping onto this face. "So did the rest of the building, I'd imagine. Any minute now we'll have your neighbors banging on the door, thinking someone's killing you."

Tosh shook her head. "The neighbors _I_ have," she said dryly, "are more likely to pat me on the back for finally having a good night."

Ianto blushed again. It looked cute. Ianto _was_ cute, and Tosh wondered again how she could love this man so deeply and yet never feel a spark of desire for anything more than his company. Just as well, though. She was already besotted with a cynical doctor who wanted to be friends and a cryo-frozen soldier she wouldn't see for a year. She didn't need to add 'man in love with his girlfriend' to her set of unattainable attractions.

Tosh collected her wandering wits and focused back on the discussion. "Neither of us is in any state of mind to take this sort of action tonight," she said firmly.

Ianto opened his mouth; thought better of whatever he'd planned to say, shut it again and nodded in agreement.

"And of course I want a way out. But I want it to be you and Lisa getting safely away." Tosh finished.

Ianto's head tipped to a side, the way it did when he was deep in thought. "After we've gone?" he asked tentatively.

"I don't want to forget you," Tosh protested. But there'd been another telling pause. The crack was there, and they both knew it. This was no longer an argument about _whether_ she'd take Retcon. It had evolved into a discussion of_ when_.

"It won't work," Tosh said, after a moment's contemplation. "Jack will know something's wrong if I don't know who you were. They all will." She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed. She'd decide that later.

Ianto frowned. "But you could forget Lisa," he said slowly. "You could forget you knew her, forget you helped me."

Tosh didn't answer. Her throat felt tight, chokingly tight. Too much guilt for one woman to swallow. A couple of months ago she would have fought that, too. But now, her feelings about Lisa were so conflicted. It would be a relief to forget she'd ever met her, forget everything she'd done for her. And they'd progressed from 'when' to 'how'.

Tosh trailed back to her lounge room and sank back onto the couch. Ianto followed.

"We'll need to make a recording," she said, accepting defeat, accepting the inevitable. "I'll have to administer the Retcon myself after you've gone, and I don't want to leave notes lying around for anyone to find."

Ianto dropped down beside her. "A disk wouldn't be much better," he countered. They weren't looking at each other. It felt like breaking up, and they weren't even a couple.

Tosh shrugged. "A file on my hard drive, with a subprogram to delete and shut down after playing."

Ianto nodded, feeling as empty as the wine bottle sitting on the coffee table in front of him. They'd forgotten to clear it away. He reached absently for the neck of the bottle, his other hand reaching for the glasses.

"There's another bottle in the rack," Tosh said numbly.

Ianto looked at her, finally. "Are we going to get drunk?" he asked. No animation in his voice either.

"Why should Owen be the only one who gets to come into work with a hangover?" Tosh replied.

-XXX-

Owen wasn't going to have a hangover in the morning. He'd still be grumpy though. Lack of sleep.

The spray, he reminded his overactive and unwelcome conscience, was no different to alcohol. Better, in some ways. Faster and cheaper than a bottle of vodka. And it didn't cause hangovers.

At least he thought it didn't. He'd never waited around long enough to see the after effects.

Maybe that couple tonight wouldn't even remember him. Which, Owen reflected, would be quite a pity. They'd be forgetting a great night, even if he did say so himself.

Owen's last thought before his churning mind finally released him to the embrace of sleep, was that he'd still beat the crap out of anyone who used that spray on Toshiko. But he'd do the same to anyone who got her drunk, so his conscience could shut the hell up.

-XXX-

"So, um," Tosh began, when the new bottle was half empty. Or half full, only she wasn't in that sort of mood. "What did _you_ do that was so monumentally stupid?"

"Something that will be easier to talk about after another glass of wine," Ianto decided.

By the end of the bottle, he'd gotten through all of the day's encounters with Jack. Tosh listened, her mouth gracelessly open, to a description of the events in the tourist office, horrified anew at herself for her earlier outburst.

"He's acting like some sort of predator," she said in disgust. "Hunting _you_."

Ianto shrugged. Somewhere inside he still felt guilty, and the guilt led him to defend Jack, however ridiculous that was. "I've not been much better," he admitted. "I mean, if you want to talk about hunting, I've been laying traps for him, really. At least he's been straightforward about it."

Tosh drained her final glass thoughtfully. She cold feel the effects of the alcohol and it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed. They wouldn't open another bottle. In spite of her comments earlier neither of them was the sort to drink to the point of losing control. They couldn't afford to.

"He didn't have to make you stay back tonight," Tosh said firmly. "So he's laying traps, too. And abusing his authority to do it."

Ianto looked at her in confusion.

"He was with Gwen," she elaborated. "On the spot. He could have – in fact he should have – followed her, made sure she was safe for the night, and done the clean-up himself."

Ianto shook his head. "That's unfair, Tosh. No one ever follows witnesses after they've been Retconned."

Tosh shook her head and leaned towards him, grasping an arm, wondering if the wine had made her a bit too touchy-feely, and deciding she didn't care. This was Ianto. She was safe with him.

"No Ianto, really," she persisted. "This was a Hub breach. It's different. We haven't had this happen since you arrived, so you wouldn't know." Tosh paused to giggle at her friend's outraged expression. Ianto liked to think he knew everything about the Hub.

"Don't worry," Tosh said solemnly. "I won't tell anyone you didn't know."

Ianto swatted her arm clumsily. Apparently he didn't have any better head for alcohol than she did. Tosh didn't fancy his chances of getting home in one piece tonight. He'd probably throw up in the cab and get tossed into a gutter by the driver. Never mind, she had a spare room. And the Mickey Mouse shirt was still around somewhere.

"But," Tosh continued. "We usually only do remote cleanup if we can't get into the subject's home, and Jack didn't even try, did he? So he must have planned to have you there tonight, Ianto." She giggled again at the unintended pun, feeling guilty at the blush it drew to Ianto's cheeks. "You know what I meant," she finished awkwardly, patting his arm. Or no, actually, that was his knee. Tosh blushed too.

"I played up to him in the cells though," Ianto pointed out. "He might have thought….oh, I don't know. I don't do this stuff…" he trailed off. "I didn't used to do this stuff," he corrected himself, starting intently at the dregs in the bottom of his glass before placing it carefully back down on the table. He sighed heavily. "I can't do it again, Tosh, I really can't." He gulped in a breath, fighting down a sob. "Lisa said she could hear what happens in the Hub, or at least the Archives…..I think she knows Tosh, or suspects…."

Tosh covered her hand with his. "She's got very good hearing," she agreed.

Ianto raised his eyes to meet hers. "You knew?" he asked dully, all traces of intoxication gone. Just when it might have helped, too.

"She told me months ago," Tosh admitted, feeling a wave of relief. One burden of deceit lifted from the weight on her conscience, and her soul felt lighter for it. "But she didn't want you to know she'd heard."

Ianto's head slumped into his hands. If he was crying, it was silent.

"She said she hated Jack for what he was doing to you," Tosh continued, desperate to provide what little comfort she could. "But Lisa didn't blame you, Ianto. She knew you were doing it for her, to protect her. She wasn't angry, she was just upset that she couldn't comfort you about it, because you didn't want her to know."

Tosh watched sadly as tremors passed through her best friend's slender frame. Sadness for him, and sadness for Lisa. She'd liked the Lisa who tried to protect Ianto from that knowledge. But she didn't like the Lisa who'd flayed him with it today.

-XXX-

Lisa considered her decision from all angles and smiled. Odd how she still used that facial expression when Ianto wasn't there to be soothed by it. But her task was completed for now, her decision made. Time to relax again. She scrolled through her digital library, looking for something more intriguing to help her pass the night. There it was. H G Wells. The Island of Dr Moreau. The story of a doctor who changed other creatures, improved them, bringing them closer to perfection in order to serve him. It suited her mood, and perhaps she would learn something from it. The Torchwood Hub would be Lisa's island.

_I will lead them forth from this underground island. My people, the nucleus of the new race. Ianto at my side, and Toshiko, maybe Suzie as well. We will emerge from this place to rule the Earth. My people triumphant, as it should have been all those months ago. As it will be. The dawning of the Age of Steel._

__

_

* * *

_

**Thank you for reading. I'm hoping to cover the rest of Everything Changes in the next chapter. Please excuse any delays while I obsessively watch Day One.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Still set in Everything Changes. Mostly pushing Suzie towards the edge this chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

Tosh woke to the sound of someone moving around her flat and _didn't_ panic. She didn't even reach for her gun. She would have been concerned at her lack of reaction if not for the scent of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air. Her subconscious no doubt associated that particular smell with safety.

She was totally screwed if she was ever invaded by a barista.

Tosh hauled herself out of bed, remembered at the last minute to pull on a robe, and followed her nose. Another scent met her at the kitchen, one that made her mouth water. Ianto was making pancakes for breakfast. So he could cook, too.

He'd never be able to cook for Lisa. Lisa ate through tubes in her veins. Maybe Dr Tanizaki would get her to the point of eating purees through her mouth. Ianto might be able to cook soup for her one day. Tosh pushed the thought aside and set the table.

Ianto was still wearing her Mickey Mouse nightshirt and he still looked ridiculous in it. Tosh made a mental note to pick up some oversized shirts and maybe some jogging pants as well, just in case this became a habit.

With her first sip of coffee, her brain awoke completely and reminded her Ianto was leaving soon. And she shouldn't risk having a set of clothes in the house that might break the Retcon. The hollow feeling inside intensified as she realized she might forget this morning. Forget waking to a feeling of safety for the first time in years. The fluffy pancakes felt heavy on her tongue.

As heavy as the atmosphere in the Hub. Breakfast was hours ago, and those pancakes were the first and last good moment of the day. Two crappy days in a row. At least no-one had died. So far.

They'd only just reached the Plass when Tosh's earpiece buzzed and she was off to retrieve a cluster of objects that had fallen through the Rift. Just her, no back up, not for a small deposit of inanimate material. A simple and straightforward three-step process. 1) Collect, 2) Sort, and 3) Don't push any buttons.

She dropped Ianto off on the Plass and let the engine idle as she called up the co-ordinates on her PDA. At least this call out eliminated the possibility of raised eyebrows over them arriving at the same time.

Tosh watched the SatNav loading the route and tried to summon some excitement for her first solo retrieval. The final evidence of full field agent status, hooray. She tried, but it was difficult to drum up enthusiasm for this particular pile of smashed and dented components, especially after it started to rain. And she missed having someone to trade jokes with as she worked – somehow that always made this sort of tedious job go faster. Admit it, Toshiko; she told herself severely, you miss working with Owen. Accepting the truth didn't lessen the ache.

After two hours squatting in the cold, she'd sorted the deposit into 'worth further investigation' and 'destroy now'. The 'destroy now' pile was the larger of the two, but at least the tiny bonfire created by her incendiary device warmed her up. Tosh stood up slowly, winced at the stiffness in her back, and reflected that this type of event made her wonder whether the Rift was some sort of universal recycling chute. Or possibly garbage disposal. It wasn't an original thought, though. Suzie frequently said the Rift was the equivalent of the Universe's toilet. "How else do you explain why we get all the shit?" she'd asked.

Tosh didn't approve of Suzie's vocabulary. Even after all these months working together Tosh was hard pressed to find_ anything_ she approved of about Suzie. And yet here she was, starting to think like her. That might just be scarier than the glove.

The tension in the Hub on Tosh's return hit her with the impact of a physical wall. Similar to when she'd been the subject of the 'dress rehearsal' for Gwen Cooper's introduction to the Hub, except for the location of the players.

Ianto was nowhere to be seen. Usual. Except there was no welcoming cup of coffee on her desk. Not even a cold one left from his first round. Which meant he hadn't _done_ the first round. So that was _un_usual.

Jack was in his office. Usual. The door was shut. _Un_usual.

Suzie was at her workbench, hiding behind her welding mask. Usual. Tosh had no idea what she was working on, but there was noise, and smoke, and output. For the first time Tosh could remember, Suzie's pile of artifacts ready for storage exceeded her own. Unusual.

Rattles and crashes and a surprising lack of swearing floated up from the autopsy bay. No out-of-tune singing or annoying music. No loud complaints about how his subject smelled. Not so much as a demand for coffee. Obviously Owen didn't want company either. _Very _unusual.

Tosh deposited her latest findings on her desk and set to work. Her fingers danced across the stack of artifacts, delicately removing the components she'd concluded were worth saving. Her mind wandered, analyzing the unusual atmosphere. The air in the Hub rippled with apprehension. Something was about to happen and it wouldn't be good. As often occurred when Tosh let her thoughts drift, her mind made the connection. Apprehension and Suzie being industrious. Today was the day Jack wanted Suzie's projections for the glove.

The air splintered as Jack threw his door open with a crash. "Suzie," he yelled. He paused, hands on hips, waiting for a response that didn't come. Suzie couldn't hear him. Tosh wondered how he'd missed the sparks and the blowtorch. Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he just wanted them all to know that Suzie was about to have her favorite toy confiscated. Power games. Mind games. Games Tosh didn't want to play. She shrank into her seat and pretended she was invisible.

It seemed to work, on Jack at least. He didn't even pause for a nod of greeting as he passed Tosh's station. Tosh couldn't decide whether that was part of the effect, or whether he was too concerned about Suzie's reaction to bother with courtesies. He really did have atrocious manners. Except when he exerted himself, and that was mostly flirting.

Suzie followed Jack to his office, head high, eyes flashing, carrying the folder from yesterday's meeting. She must have worked out a case for keeping the glove. Tosh hoped fervently it wasn't good enough to keep the glove out of storage.

Footsteps rang on the staircase as Jack's door closed.

"She won't win," Owen announced, dropping into his chair.

Tosh looked across at him. "Is that knowledge or wishful thinking?"

Owen smiled thinly. "I can quote the boss if you like." He cleared his throat and summoned a regrettable American accent. "Whatever projections she comes up with, they'll be too high."

Tosh nodded, turning her head as voices rose in Jack's office. "She's arguing," Tosh noted. "Sounds like she was ready for a fight."

Owen spun his chair to face her fully. "I'd say so," he agreed. "Jack made a point of showing his hand. He's already ordered Teaboy to bring the glove up from the archives. And the knife." Owen sniffed disapprovingly. "He hadn't even made the coffee yet. I had to have instant."

It explained Ianto's absence. Dispatched on a futile search, and fully aware of it. Everyone knew that Suzie had taken the glove home last night, with the exception of Jack, and possibly Myfanwy.

Tosh made sympathetic noises, trying not to feel smug that she'd gotten her Ianto-coffee fix when they stopped at his flat to collect a fresh suit. He'd even asked Tosh's opinion on which tie to wear.

"He's not going to find the glove down there," Tosh remarked eventually.

"I know," Owen agreed. "Massive bloody bulge in her handbag. We ought to tell Teaboy to stop wasting his time and get back to the coffee machine."

Tosh smiled. She wasn't worried about Ianto wasting his time. Ianto was too smart to waste his morning searching for something that wasn't there. He was probably taking advantage of the opportunity offered by the pointless search to spend time with Lisa. They had an argument to resolve. Tosh hoped Lisa retained enough of her humanity to be gentle with him.

-XXX-

"It's still day-time."

Ianto locked the door behind him and remembered when the greeting used to be a greeting, not an accusation. The joyous 'You're back. I missed you so much' of the early days, gave way to 'I was scared you wouldn't come back' as things deteriorated. Which in its turn devolved into the whispered 'It hurts, Ianto.'

After Tosh started helping, there were 'Hellos' and 'How was your day?' The closest they'd had to normal since they escaped from the burning hell into this cold dark one.

And so to this. Lisa expected him to have a reason to visit now, and it had to be good. Making up their quarrel probably wouldn't qualify.

"They aren't expecting me back in the Hub for at least an hour," Ianto said peaceably. "I'm supposed to be searching the archives for something that's hidden in Suzie's bag under her desk. If I go straight back up and say it isn't there, Suzie will be in all sorts of trouble. She'll blame me. And I have to avoid that sort of attention."

_I don't want Suzie getting into trouble. What if Jack makes her leave? No, I want Suzie nearby when the converter is ready for her. _

"Office politics," Lisa commented brightly. "How I miss them!"

Ianto's heart lifted. He'd hoped she wouldn't be angry. He'd never have expected her to be cheerful. Maybe Tosh's words of comfort last night actually had some truth in them.

"Perhaps you could cover for her," Lisa continued. "It wouldn't hurt to have her owe you a favor."

"If you say so," Ianto agreed, captivated by the animation in her voice. At that moment, he would have agreed to anything Lisa suggested. "You were always better at office politics than I was."

_Hooked him. So easy. Now to reel him in._

"So I was," Lisa agreed. She flexed her fingers. Ianto took the hint and took her hand. The left hand. She needed the right one for the mouse. Lisa wasn't going to risk messing up again. Text flowed across the screen as she searched for the passage she needed. _There_.

"I still am," Lisa continued. She dropped her voice, low enough to add some roughness to her tone, as though she was struggling to get the words out. "And that's why I understand what you're doing, Ianto. What you had to do. With Jack, I mean."

Tears sprang to Ianto's eyes_. _"I'm so sorry, Lisa. I didn't know what else to do."

_Tears are pretty. They make his eyes look silver. _

"But it's finished," he mumbled. "Weeks ago. It won't happen again. Please forgive me, sweetheart."

Lisa frowned.

_Silly boy. I could have put up with it for the short time left. And if I could, he could. He liked it, after all. I don't understand why he's pretending he didn't. _

"But I understand," Lisa repeated. "And there's nothing to forgive." She squeezed the hand within hers. "You had no choice, Ianto. And if it has to happen again….I'll understand that, too."

Ianto shook his head violently. "No. I won't. I can't. Never again, Lisa."

_What will we do now if we need Jack out of the way again? Oh well, it's only a few more weeks. We'll manage. And after, he'll understand how much better it is not to be bothered by these inconvenient physical needs._

"If I was in your place I might have done the same thing," Lisa finished. She waited expectantly for a reaction. He should be relieved, grateful for her forgiveness, so they could forget this nonsense and move on to more important matters.

But the tears leaked from Ianto's eyes and his shoulders shook. Lisa's mind worked furiously, trying to analyze what she'd done wrong, frustrated that the mechanism for understanding this was no longer in reach. Then again, maybe it was. Her right hand twitched on the mouse. Text sped across the screen, skipping past the remaining revolting sentiment while Ianto sank to his knees beside the converter.

_Here's a possibility….Am I being too forgiving? Making the guilt worse? Is that what's making him fall to pieces? Worth a try…._

"Would you have forgiven me?" Lisa demanded. "Or would you have thought of me as badly as you think of yourself now?"

"I'd forgive you anything," Ianto whispered. He buried his face in her stomach. Tears dampened her skin. Annoying, but worthwhile. Tears would make him feel better, less likely to fall apart again when she needed him strong. Tears wouldn't harm her. It wasn't as though she could rust.

"Then forgive yourself, for me."

When Ianto finally looked up, the shine in his eyes wasn't from tears any longer.

Lisa smiled as he leaned over her, controlling the instinctive panic as he blocked her airway with his lips. Her right index finger clicked the mouse, blanked the screen. She already had what she needed.

_That romantic drivel came in useful after all._

-XXX-

The voices from the office fell silent. Tosh and Owen pretended to be busy. Owen flicked Tosh a sideways glance and she hoped she wouldn't giggle. This wasn't funny, it really wasn't, but a nervous laugh bubbled in her chest and she was scared it would escape if Owen kept giving her those looks.

Suzie emerged from the office, avoiding their eyes. Her face was strained, but her head was up, and her steps were slow and stately. The Costello Pride still flew at full mast.

Jack followed shortly after. "Where's Ianto?" he demanded, looking around sharply.

"Hasn't surfaced from the archives yet." Owen answered. "Get him up here would you? I'm getting a withdrawal headache."

Jack tapped his earpiece. "Ianto? Have you got them?" His face creased into a frown and he stared hard at Suzie.

"He's got the knife," Jack reported. "But the glove's missing. Know anything about that, Suzie?"

Suzie looked up defiantly. "How would I know where he's put it? The Archives are chaos. Only Teaboy knows his way around there, and he makes sure the rest of us don't."

Which was quite true, Tosh conceded. Ianto didn't want anyone else in the Archives, because it was only a short trip from 'How do the archives work?' to 'What's down that corridor, Ianto?' Which would inevitably lead to 'What's behind that door?'

They waited for Ianto to return with the Hub holding its breath. Even Myfanwy was quiet.

It was now just a question of whether Suzie was capable of swallowing her pride enough to ask Ianto to cover for her.

Tosh hoped Suzie wasn't stubborn enough to keep quiet and hope for the best. If Jack had made up his mind to store the glove, he wouldn't give up. He might go so far as searching their belongings. Tosh's throat dried as she imagined Jack finding the data recorder nestled at the bottom of her handbag, and cursed herself for not passing it to Ianto earlier.

The impatient tapping of Jack's foot counted the seconds. "Where the hell is he?" Jack muttered. He didn't want to have to go looking for Ianto again. He didn't want to be alone with Ianto anymore, not after making a fool of himself last night. Of course he didn't, that was why he was counting the seconds until it would be reasonable to go in pursuit of the wayward Welshman.

There was a clatter from the kitchen and Ianto entered the main hub, pushing the trolley he usually used to transport artifacts down to the Archives. On the top shelf of the trolley reposed a tray laden with steaming mugs _and _a tension-busting bakery bag.

"I'm right here, Sir," came the calm response. "Sorry for the delay. I took the liberty of procuring some donuts."

Tosh smiled to herself and tried not to react to the stunned expression on Jack's face. She hadn't noticed Ianto enter the kitchen either. And where on Earth did he get the donuts from? Her friend really was a master at being invisible when he wanted. Not to mention very skilled at countering an ominous atmosphere, but that wasn't so surprising. He'd had plenty of practice with Lisa.

Ianto distributed coffee and donuts before returning to Suzie's desk. "I give up," he said wearily. "I thought I could find anything in the Archives, but you've beaten me. I tried every system I knew, but either you've got one of your own or," he paused for a disapproving sniff, "You've misfiled it."

Suzie looked at him blankly.

"The Resurrection Gauntlet," Ianto said, using the 'official' name. "I've been ordered to retrieve it from the Archives for secure storage, and." He paused before the difficult admission and Tosh bit her tongue to hold back that looming giggle. "I don't know where you left it."

Suzie blinked. Tosh had the impression that if she was closer she'd hear the cogs whirr inside the woman's head.

"I know you brought it down yesterday while I was feeding Janet." Ianto continued, with a hint of impatience. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to take it, and I do appreciate you trying to save me work by putting it away yourself." He paused again, letting them all translate that into 'too impatient to wait until I got back' or 'too lazy to file it correctly'. Tosh's trapped giggle nearly escaped at the masterful performance. She could practically hear Jack's muscles creak as he relaxed.

"But I've changed the filing system since I arrived, and I can't find it anywhere," Ianto concluded. "I'd appreciate it if you'd show me where you put it."

Throw a drowning woman a lifeline and she's unlikely to ask whether it's biodegradable.

Suzie's face lit from within as she seized on the escape. "I didn't want you to know I'd been down there," she said, with a creditable attempt at embarrassment. "Thought you might cut off my coffee supplies if I'd misfiled it."

"And you don't think that's still going to happen after you've wasted his whole morning?" Tosh asked in mock annoyance.

Ianto gave her a hint of a smile. "I wouldn't do that, Miss," he said to Suzie. "Not as long as you find it, anyway."

"Good work, Suze. You've deprived the rest of us of caffeine," Owen put in, playing along for all he was worth. He still had the pheromone spray at home. The pleasure of seeing Suzie put in her place wasn't worth the pain of Jack on a mission. There was a donut in his stomach, coffee on his desk, and Tosh was glowing from the byplay, so what did Owen have to complain about?

"How did you know Suzie was in the Archives when you weren't there?" Jack asked suspiciously. Tosh couldn't help noticing Jack wasn't quite looking at Ianto, even while speaking to him. They might be in for an awkward few weeks.

"I know everything, Sir," Ianto replied, directing his comments to Jack's hairline. Definitely an awkward three weeks. Still, it increased the likelihood of Jack accepting Ianto's eventual flight from Torchwood. She'd accept it by then, too. The memories left after her dose of Retcon would fully support the idea that Ianto had fled from Jack's unwelcome attentions.

Suzie rolled her eyes. "He bloody does," she agreed. "I swear I didn't even leave a footprint down there."

"One of life's mysteries," Owen put in. "If you really want to know, Jack, you'll have to let me dissect him to find out how he does it. Otherwise, let the man get you the bloody glove and get back to more important business. We've got coffee to catch up on."

Tosh finally let the giggle out. Partly from relief, mostly from Ianto's demeanor. He'd dropped weeks – no, months – worth of tension. A dramatic and welcome change since this morning. Things must have gone well with Lisa.

Tosh's day was improving rapidly. The whole team was smiling. Except Jack.

Jack eyed the proceedings with a sense of anticlimax. Suzie might well have tried to hide the glove, and the Archives would surely be a case of 'hiding in plain sight.' But Ianto had smoothed it over with his usual finesse and it really wasn't worth stirring things up any further. From now on the glove - and its friend the knife – would be under Jack's eye, and that would be an end to it.

"Go show Ianto where you put the glove, Suzie," he ordered.

"Of course," Suzie agreed, rising to her feet. Taking her bulky bag with her, Tosh noticed with satisfaction. They could all breathe more easily now.

Ianto loaded Suzie's pile of repaired artifacts onto his trolley. Suzie even unbent enough to help. She'd probably go back to ignoring Ianto tomorrow, but she might lay off on the nasty comments. For a while at least.

"Owen, my office," Jack ordered.

Owen winked at Tosh as he passed. "Teaboy's got a heart after all."

"I've never doubted it," Tosh snapped, venting her annoyance at the way the simple wink warmed her to her toes.

She didn't see the grin drop off Owen's face because she was too busy having a whispered conversation with Ianto while making sure he collected the data recorder with her pile of artifacts. Tosh hoped the books scanned within it would be enough to keep Lisa occupied for the remaining weeks. She wasn't going to risk taking the recorder out of the Hub again with Jack in this militant frame of mind. Tosh's fondness for the recorder had taken a battering. All she wanted to do with it now was wipe its memory and return it to the Archives.

As the trolley rattled its way back to the Archives, Tosh leaned back in her chair with a smile on her face. Lisa had forgiven Ianto, and done it in a way that had completely relieved his guilt.

Maybe, Tosh thought, with a warming flash of hope, just maybe her suspicions about Lisa were wrong.

And Owen had winked at her.

Yes, Tosh's day had definitely taken a turn for the better.

-XXX-

"Chandler and Bell," Jack said shortly as Owen sat down on the other side of his desk.

"Sorted," Owen answered promptly. "Called 'em this morning. They ran a systems check overnight and found signs of the virus."

Jack grinned. "Tosh isn't sloppy enough to leave traces, so I have to assume she left evidence to support our claim. She's brilliant."

"Yeah, we already know that," Owen agreed. "Next step, according to their accounts department, is we prove our losses, if you can believe that. They want me to do a stock-take, compare what they say we ordered to what's in the med bay. Minus what we've used, of course." He broke off with a sigh. "Don't suppose you could assign Teaboy to help me?"

Jack waved a dismissive hand. "A waste of your time. And his. We can wear it."

Owen gave him the death glare. "This whole thing was all a ploy to get the glove away from Suzie, wasn't it?"

Jack eyed him innocently. "Would I pull a stunt like that?"

"I've spent the best part of two days working on this," Owen grumbled. "And now you tell me it was all for nothing?"

Jack smiled lazily. "Tosh did all the work."

True, but annoying. And Owen _had_ spent hours arguing with the accounting and IT departments of Chandler and Bell. Jack could have clued him in and saved him the effort. It was payback time, Owen decided, and if what he'd seen on the Plass this morning stung Jack half as much as it stung him, he knew just how to achieve it. And the whole 'misery loves company' thing wouldn't go astray, either.

"Tosh _and_ Teaboy," Owen said, eyes intent. "They work together really well; even I've got to admit it."

There was the flinch. First blood to Harper. Now to move in for the killing blow.

"They looked very happy when they came in together this morning," Owen continued. "Tosh dropped him at the door and headed off on her mission. All sweet and domestic. Even a goodbye kiss." On the cheek, Owen conceded, but as the song said, a kiss was still a kiss.

He almost regretted his words. Muscles twitched across Jack's face, showing the keen observer exactly how deep the strike had gone. Far deeper than intended. But in the depths of his sarcastic heart, beneath the numbness Katie left behind, Owen knew he wasn't just being petty, not really. Obsession was unhealthy. Jack had put a stop to Suzie's obsession, and Owen was about to put a stop to Jack's. If it made Tosh happy as well, that was a bonus.

Now Owen just had to make sure he didn't develop an obsession himself. He'd been thinking about Toshiko a bit too much lately. He'd have to watch that.

Jack shifted in his seat. "Say I told you so and get it over with," he muttered.

"I told you so," Owen said promptly.

It should have relieved the tension. Jack should have laughed. But he didn't. His hand toyed with his pencil, drawing triangles in the margins of the report before him. Sharp-pointed triangles, etched deeply into the glossy paper.

Owen's gaze softened. "What happened, Jack?"

The hint of compassion came closer to breaking Jack than barbs ever would.

"Nothing you need to know about," Jack snapped. "Stop pretending you give a shit and go do some real work, would you?"

Owen left without further comment, making sure he slammed the door loudly enough to cover the sulfurous language streaming from Jack's lips.

Jack stared unseeing at the papers before him. His fingers clenched, white-knuckled around his pencil, too tightly for the fragile wood to bear, but he didn't notice when it snapped. He was too busy stopping himself from running after Owen, grabbing him around the throat and demanding 'What sort of kiss?'

Blood beaded where the broken ends of the pencil dug into his palm, and he tasted the metallic tang in his mouth, too, where his teeth had sunk into the flesh of his cheek.

Taste. He'd tasted every inch of Ianto, except his lips, his mouth, and his tongue. He'd never understood why Ianto had so stubbornly refused access to those few places. It made a sort of twisted sense now. What Ianto gave to Tosh, he wouldn't _soil_ by sharing with Jack, would he? And if he didn't need Jack any more, was Tosh now taking the rest of it, too? Jack's fist clenched, driving the wooden shards deeper. He wasn't jealous. He didn't get jealous. Easy come, easy go. Another on any street, every street, just waiting for him to notice….

The door opened again. Jack didn't look up as Owen entered, removed the splinters from his palm and left again without a word.

**Hope you liked. I have no idea what book Suzie was reading, by the way.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Another lengthy chapter (sigh) got carried away again. Hope the length makes up for the delay rather than boring you.**

**A fair bit of Suzie in this chapter. I'm planning to let her go out with a bang (Sorry, couldn't resist).**

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"Got an update from Dr Tanizaki," Ianto muttered one morning, as Tosh's coffee mug landed on her desk. "He's going to start running computer simulations." Ianto's face was its usual bland mask, but the eyes looking through it showed fear and uncertainty, if you knew how to read them. Which Tosh did, of course.

Tosh smiled reassuringly and flicked a glance at Jack, who appeared to be staring straight at her without seeing her. Then his eyes focused and Jack turned away with a very fake smile. The exchange made Tosh uneasy enough to mute the microphone over her desk - something she hadn't done for weeks - before turning to Ianto. "That's good," she said, with unfeigned approval. "We sent the specs for the converter soon after we first contacted him, remember? He can build a virtual model of Lisa's converter, and run through the procedure for removing her."

The tense muscles around Ianto's eyes relaxed. "Better than practicing on the real thing," he agreed. He moved away without further speech, but Tosh could see the returning tension in the lines of his shoulders. She followed the direction of his glance and hurriedly restored the microphone to normal function. Jack was staring at them again. Or still.

It was happening too often to be a coincidence. Tosh used to wonder how Ianto felt when Jack did that 'trying not to watch him all the time' thing. She wondered how he managed to remain so calm beneath the barrage of surreptitious glances across the Hub, the eyes flicking away whenever Ianto returned the gaze. Jack still did it, only not as much. Half as much.

He had a new subject to divide his attention.

Tosh didn't have to wonder how it felt any more. Because now Jack watched – or didn't watch - _her _in almost exactly the same way. Almost. If she had to pick the difference, Tosh would say there was less hunger in his glance, and more – curiosity? Speculation?

Regardless, Tosh knew now what constant scrutiny felt like, and quite frankly, it was _freaking her out_. She wished he'd stop. More than that, she wished she knew why he was doing it in the first place. Not knowing the reason for it was nearly as frustrating as the surveillance itself.

The first possibility that sprang to mind came from her own pit of guilt about the deception she was helping Ianto achieve. He suspects,Tosh thought, shivering from the core out. He knows we're concealing something and he's going to watch us until he finds out what it is.

Tosh shivered through a whole day, during which Owen insisted on taking her temperature five separate times, before she calmed enough to let logic defeat her fear. Jack didn't do subtle. Jack was the archetypical action man. He didn't wait, he didn't lurk. He'd said more than once that the waiting game cost lives. If Jack suspected anything, he'd be after them, guns blazing. Interrogating them at the very least. Not just this unnerving _watching_.

The next possibility was more likely, and far less easy to dispel. He'd had his supply cut off, as Suzie would say. Maybe Jack was seeking a new focus for his amorous attention. A focus called Toshiko Sato.

Tosh looked somewhat desperately for flaws in the theory. Ianto was under scrutiny too, which suggested Jack hadn't given up his pursuit of the well-tailored Welshman. But she had to admit it didn't rule out the possibility he'd set his sights on a new target. Jack rarely limited himself to one partner. It was actually out of character that he'd shown no interest in anyone apart from Ianto for such a long time. Well, no sustained interest, Tosh corrected herself. Jack had gone out on the prowl with Owen a few times, and Tosh knew what that meant.

There were some unnerving factors in favor of the theory, however. History, for a start. Jack had flirted with Tosh when she first joined Torchwood, and he'd even shown renewed signs of interest quite recently. At the time, Tosh put it down to Jack salving his ego after Ianto did what he refused to refer to as 'breaking up' with Jack. 'We weren't a couple, Toshiko. It isn't possible to break up with someone you aren't with in the first place.' And since Ianto needed to believe that so desperately, Tosh couldn't bring herself to argue.

Semantics aside, it was possible Jack had turned his attentions to her as a rebound measure. It was _possible_, but it didn't make much sense. Then again, there wasn't much that made sense at Torchwood, so what else was new?

After hours of fretting, Tosh decided to ignore it. She would treat Jack exactly as she'd always done and pretend she hadn't even noticed anything had changed. Maybe, she thought optimistically, Jack would get bored and find something else to do. Or some_one_ else.

-XXX-

"The simulation failed," Ianto reported the next morning. Tosh's coffee cup rattled on its coaster as he set it down, and it didn't matter that Jack was watching, or the whole damned Hub, even, as Tosh made the flimsiest of excuses to follow her friend down to the Archives.

Owen counted the seconds until something shattered in Jack's office. At least the Captain waited until Tosh and Ianto were out of earshot before he threw – oooh, looked like a coffee mug, not the precious blue-and-white striped one, though – against the wall.

Owen watched warily as Jack emerged from his office. "Going to the shooting range," he announced. "Care to join me, Owen?"

Bloody good idea, Owen thought. Destroying things, even paper targets, was a good way of releasing frustration. "I'm in," he agreed with enthusiasm.

"What about you, Suzie?" Jack added.

Jack was being careful with Suzie since he'd reclaimed the glove. Owen thought she was coping with the loss quite well. Better than he'd anticipated, in fact. She'd even taken on the new duty Jack suggested.

Jack waited patiently for a response from Suzie. She looked up, shook her head and pointed to her ear. On the phone. With the police, probably. She seemed to be developing quite a handy little rapport with the local constabulary.

Jack had to admit, the recently-Retconned Constable Cooper had a good point regarding the mutual benefits of Torchwood liaising with the police. He'd offered the dubious honor to Suzie. With the glove now ensconced in Jack's office, in sight but not within reach, Suzie had the time to devote to establishing relations with the police, and to Jack's relief she appeared to have developed the inclination as well. He was quite pleased with himself for suggesting it. At least he'd done _something_ right.

He and Owen had a great time shooting the hell out of paper Weevils. It was, Jack had to admit, a far more constructive way of releasing tension than smashing coffee mugs.

-XXX-

Working for Captain Jack Harkness had taught Suzie many things, amongst which was the fact that no-one, absolutely no-one, was impervious to flirtation. From the dateless and desperate lapping it all up, to the settled and secure, openly or secretly rejoicing to find that they 'still had it'.

Following Jack's example, Suzie experimented with same-sex flirting, when the situation warranted it. And even the women who stammered and giggled and changed the subject were flattered, and just that little bit less cautious. Everyone relaxed their guard, even if just a fraction, in the face of a polished piece of innuendo.

Take this wanna-be-sophisticated detective on the phone right now, for example. Old enough to know better, high enough in the ranks to be suspicious, one would think. Probably sinfully ugly, Suzie suspected, or maybe henpecked, as her father would have called it. Never had a flattering word for anyone, her old man. Mind, no-one had a flattering word for him either, especially not his daughter. But that was an issue for another time, another life.

Regardless, here was Detective Whatsisname, unwisely confiding that forensics had produced a diagram of the murder weapon. "A wicked looking thing," he confided. "Nothing I've ever seen before. Maybe," and here he paused significantly, as though Torchwood wasn't Cardiff's worst-kept secret, "Maybe from one of _your _sort of perpetrator."

If he could have seen her, Suzie would have fluttered her eyelashes, but since he couldn't the gesture was a waste of time. She rolled her eyes instead and summoned a breathless tone of voice that belonged to blonde and voluptuous rather than dark and athletic.

"Maybe," she agreed. "Not that I should be discussing this with you, but I_ know_ I can trust you."

"So you can love, so you can." The rumbling laugh she received put Suzie in mind of a beer belly rippling against a stained T-shirt on a Sunday afternoon while the television blared and Suzie hid under the blankets in her cold and dingy bedroom, keeping out of the way and crying sparse, silent tears of longing for her mother. She took a deep breath, banished the past and concentrated on the present. The beer belly was long gone; the bully shriveled to a husk, and that was enough to keep Suzie satisfied – for now.

"Well, in that case – I suppose I could….." Suzie hesitated, just for long enough to extract another burst of heartily reassuring babble. "I really shouldn't do this," she confided, pouring the syrup into her tone. "But I can trust you, you're _police_ after all. Look, send me a copy of the diagram, and I'll see if we've got anything like it on the books."

"You're a gem, lovely lady," Detective Whateveritwas answered. Suzie could practically see him preening. Probably adjusting his comb-over, she thought uncharitably. Still, it was his co-operation that mattered, not his looks. She'd soon know whether Cardiff's finest were on the right track. Then she could take steps. If necessary.

Maybe she should have gone down to the shooting range with Owen and Jack after all. Brush up on her aim, in case she needed it. She'd missed a Weevil last week and if Jack hadn't been so quick with his Webley she might have been a candidate for the glove herself. Yeah, she'd go down to the shooting range. Later. After she'd seen that diagram. It could be completely inaccurate. No need to panic, yet.

She didn't have long to wait. Her inbox chimed less than a minute after she'd cooed her goodbyes. Suzie bit her lip and quickly re-checked for all her team-mates before opening the attachment. Toshiko had said something about the archives, which meant Suzie didn't have long before Teaboy sent the geek scuttling back out of his domain. Owen and Jack were in the shooting range, so they wouldn't be back for an hour at least. Suzie smiled to herself. About time Jack took a break from eyeing off the Teaboy. It was funny, it really was, how bad Jack had it for the cutie in the suit. Nothing more appetizing than the dish that just got taken off the menu, she supposed.

Suzie still didn't understand why Teaboy helped her the other day. Probably still shitty with Jack, she decided. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' type of thing. Not that Suzie intended to object if Teaboy hinted for a more intimate kind of gratitude. It'd been a while since her last time with Owen, and while Max had his uses, _that_ wasn't one of them. So, given the circumstances, Suzie wouldn't mind the opportunity to find out what those suits looked like hanging off the end of her bed.

Anyway, getting back to the matter at hand – they were all occupied for the moment, so there was no-one around to see her open what might well prove to be an incriminating document. Suzie accessed her mail, opened the attachment and temporarily forgot about everything except saving her own skin. She'd never deleted a file so fast. It'd still be on the server, though. Would Toshiko fall for it if Suzie claimed the attachment had a virus, and delete it beyond recovery for her? No, too risky. Toshiko was brilliant in her field, if totally naïve about the real world. She'd be bound to examine the attachment first.

OK, deep breath. Get a grip, Costello. No-one would trawl through her deleted emails without a good reason, so all she had to do was make sure she didn't provide one. Time to cover her tracks, then. Starting with Detective Gullible. Suzie leaned back in her chair and let her eyes follow the pterosaur flapping lazily overhead while her mind ran through possible solutions for eliminating the threat. Decision made, she leaned forward again and composed an email requesting an appointment to discuss her findings. Tonight, after work. Late enough that no-one would expect either of them back at their respective workplaces. It might give the desperate detective the idea he was onto a sure thing for the night, but that was fine with her, because it could only make him more eager to agree to the meeting. Suzie smirked to herself at the prospect and suggested a location as well, a bar where she'd once taken Max after a Pilgrim meeting. It wasn't a particularly nice venue, but she wouldn't run into anyone who knew her. No witnesses.

Suzie waited impatiently until the acceptance arrived in her inbox. Not that she had to wait for long. Poor little man didn't even have enough pride to pretend he wasn't keen. Eager for her, she wondered, or just eager to get a line on the identity of the Cardiff Slasher? It didn't matter either way. Since they were both the same person.

Suzie bit her lip again, tasting blood. She'd need a cover story. Her eyes drifted to Jack's office while her mind considered the possibilities. Could she sneak the glove out, perhaps, just in case? Or the knife?

She'd like the glove, of course she would, but the knife was more important at the moment. What better cover than to make it look as though the hapless detective got too close to solving the case, and ended up a victim? But to achieve that, she'd have to use the same murder weapon.

Jack expected her to try to get the glove back. Would he miss the knife? Only one way to find out.

Suzie returned to her desk with the knife weighing heavy in her shoulder bag, and triumph lightening her step. Jack had 'caught' her using his CCTV master controls to spy on them in the shooting range, and he'd been flattered, not suspicious.

"Checking up on us?" he'd asked.

"Wanted to make sure it was safe to join you," Suzie replied dryly.

"Always room for one more," Jack said suggestively, while Owen did the 'fingers down the throat' gesture. "Come on down, Suzie."

"Be right there," Suzie agreed.

Apparently_ all_ men were gullible.

She'd tampered with the CCTV while she was in his office, all right, but it wasn't for the sake of finding out what he was up to with Owen. That was just a cover for the time she'd spent deleting the footage of herself, removing the knife and placing the glove carefully back in front of it. Jack wouldn't know it was missing and she'd have the knife back in place by morning. Somehow.

But the knife carried more than its real weight as she stowed her bag carefully in a desk drawer. Every other time she'd used the knife, it was for the glove. She'd sacrificed the lives of a few in the interests of securing immortality for the whole of humanity, and that was justifiable. But tonight would be different. Tonight was just to protect _her_. If she did this, she crossed a line.

Poor little policeman, playing out of his league and fooling himself he could handle it. Suzie couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He trusted her. And he'd done her a favor sending the file.

Maybe she could try Retcon first. They were meeting at a bar. It shouldn't be too difficult to slip some Retcon into his drink and make him forget he'd ever spoken to her. It might work, but it might not. Strong-minded individuals often broke through the Retcon, given a sufficiently vivid visual, especially when backed up by emotional stimulus. Detective Doofus would see that diagram of the knife regularly, and he'd probably broken a dozen different rules by sending a copy to her. So there was a strong visual and guilt to back it up. Could she be sure he wouldn't suddenly remember sending the diagram to her?

Still, it'd be a damned shame to kill him when she couldn't use the glove afterwards.

Suzie stowed her bag in a drawer, locked it, and slid the key into her pocket. Then she straightened and made her way down to the shooting range, still undecided. But she could prepare now, and decide later. She'd go to the meeting with Retcon, the knife, and improved aim, and do whatever she must, to keep herself safe.

Life was all. _Her_ life was all.

-XXX-

Ianto turned at the sound of footsteps in the Archives, his heart racing. Only Jack ever followed him down here, and he hadn't done that since…... Then Tosh came into view and Ianto couldn't help laughing at himself. He must be stressed to confuse Tosh's light footfall with the arrogant thump of Jack's boots.

"I thought you were Jack," Ianto explained, when Tosh's brow crinkled at his laughter.

Tosh shuddered and leaned against a convenient shelf. "It's getting creepy, isn't it? He doesn't watch Owen or Suzie like this. What do you think he's up to?"

Ianto merely looked back at her, his lower lip caught firmly between his teeth. Tosh's heart took up residence somewhere around her knees. He must have come to the same conclusion she had. Damn.

"Out with it," Tosh demanded. "Why would Jack be setting his sights on me? He knows my background, so he must know he's wasting his time."

"Well, you _are_ gorgeous," Ianto teased. Tosh eyed him suspiciously. Something told her he was hedging. The way his eyes weren't smiling, perhaps. "And?" she prompted.

"I'm just guessing," Ianto said mildly.

"Ianto!"

"He doesn't like things too easy," Ianto said, very quietly, eyes flicking everywhere but her face.

Tosh gaped at him. "You've lost me," she admitted. And he had. The most obscure program, however fiendishly complicated, was an open book to Toshiko, but the male mind was a tangled web and Tosh wasn't ashamed to admit deciphering it was way beyond her. One of the handiest things about having a male best friend was the inbuilt translation feature.

Ianto wished he'd kept his mouth shut. But if Jack _was_ after Toshiko, Ianto knew exactly what would have caught his attention. Apart from the fact that she _was _gorgeous, and the most amazing person he knew – except for Lisa, of course. But aside from that, Ianto knew exactly the type of thing that piqued Jack's interest. He'd made a study of it to get himself into Torchwood. So yes, he knew why Jack might be drawn to Toshiko, but that didn't mean he wanted to tell her about it.

Ianto fidgeted. Tosh propped her hands on her hips and waited.

"He likes a challenge," Ianto mumbled, a blush just beginning to creep across his cheeks.

Tosh tapped her foot.

"He zeroed in on me in because I'm straight," Ianto continued, words stumbling over each other in his haste to get it said and over with. "Jack knew that. Knows that."

Not _was_ straight, Tosh noted, _am _straight.

Ianto gulped past the lump in his throat. "He knew I had a girlfriend from the background check you did after the first time he saw me. He even knew Lisa's name."

Tears prickled at the back of Tosh's eyes. She knew it must have hurt Ianto telling Jack his girlfriend was 'deceased' all that time ago. But it was only now that she understood why he'd said it. Even back then, Ianto was setting himself up as bait. And it worked. Oh how it worked. Far too well. Jack took the bait, hook and all.

"But it didn't stop him," Ianto concluded. "Spurred him on, if anything." He sighed, examining the toe of his shoe while Tosh let it sink in.

"It didn't stop me either, did it?" Ianto added. Guilt again. Tosh stopped thinking about herself long enough to stomp on it.

"You did it for her," Tosh reminded him firmly. "And it's over now."

Not that she really believed it. Jack was still hooked, in Tosh's humble opinion, but that wouldn't necessarily stop him looking around for fresh prey. She shuddered and reminded herself that it was her choice. Jack might seduce, but he wouldn't extort. He'd use his charms, not force.

And he _was _very charming. Tosh shelved that thought for later examination.

"And it's not starting again," Ianto said firmly. "I promised Lisa." He sighed again. "Even though it means I hardly get to see her anymore."

That was another problem. With both of them subject to Jack's scrutiny, slipping away to spend the night with Lisa was impossible. Ianto snatched moments whenever he could, when he was supposed to be in the Archives or while the team was in the field. Short, risky visits, spent in hasty performance of necessary maintenance. It was just as well Lisa had become accustomed to amusing herself.

The thought reminded Tosh of something she'd meant to ask, and gave her an excuse to stop talking about a subject that was making her strangely nauseous.

"Ianto, what did you do with the data recorder after you loaded the new books for Lisa?"

Ianto blinked at the rapid change of subject. "Filed it in the Archives," he answered, waving an arm at the shelves behind him. "I didn't think you'd want it back, after the fuss Jack made about the glove."

Tosh shook her head. "I don't," she explained. "But I have to wipe the memory. My entire library's in there. If anyone checks…." Not that they would. And even if they did, how could anyone possibly connect it to her? None of the others knew Tosh well enough to be familiar with her taste in books. Tosh suspected she was developing a slight case of paranoia.

But Ianto nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. The next Archivist will probably check the memory when they're familiarizing themselves with the artifacts. And likely bring it to you if they find something they don't understand."

The next Archivist. Would Jack hunt for a replacement? He hadn't really wanted Ianto to begin with, but they'd all gotten used to order in place of the previous chaos. Another Archivist. Torchwood would go on, without Ianto. And Tosh wouldn't even miss him. She wouldn't remember having a_ reason_ to miss him.

"Imagine if you check it out for whoever it is, and find your library there," Ianto said. "It might trigger something in your memory. We can't risk that."

No, they couldn't risk that. They couldn't risk anything that might break the Retcon.

"I'll go get it now," Ianto decided, heading off into the dim reaches of his domain.

They hadn't even talked about Dr Tanizaki's simulation yet. Or discussed why it had failed. Guilt settled heavily onto Toshiko's soul. She'd followed Ianto down here to find out what was happening with Lisa, and all she'd done was chew over her own misgivings. Paranoid _and _selfish. Tosh didn't want to be like this.

When Ianto returned with the data recorder Tosh stuffed it into her jacket pocket without looking at it.

"OK, what did Dr Tanizaki say?" she demanded.

"The simulation failed to obtain separation," Ianto reported, looking remarkably unconcerned. "But like you said, it's just practice. He'll get better before we let him loose on the real thing, right?

Tosh's throat knotted. Ianto was looking at her with his heart in his eyes, expecting her to agree, expecting her to shore up his hopes, and she didn't have anything to offer. Her hand crept out, seeking his; wincing at the desperate grip which hinted at the knowledge hiding behind the optimistic façade.

"If the simulations are failing, Ianto," Tosh said, "Chances are the real attempt will fail, too. If Lisa's converter is identical to his model, then…." She choked over the last words. She couldn't rip his last strand of hope away. She really couldn't and maybe that was weak but Ianto knew her well enough to read the answer in her eyes.

After time unfroze Ianto finished the sentence. "Lisa will die if he takes her out of it, won't she?"

Tosh didn't want to answer. She couldn't look at him, but she had to, and then she couldn't look away. "Probably," she admitted finally.

Ianto contemplated her with unblinking concentration, until Tosh felt her own eyes water in sympathy. Then he seized on something that had sprung from Tosh's need for technical accuracy, and shouldn't really have been hope, and she should have known better than to say it.

"You said 'if'…"

"Ianto," Tosh protested.

"But you did. You said 'If Lisa's converter is identical to his model'. I don't understand, Tosh. His model is based on Lisa's, isn't it? How could it _not_ be identical?"

Tosh lifted her shoulders and dropped them again, the wordless symbol of uncertainty.

"It should be identical," she agreed. "He created it from the specs I sent." Tosh paused, wondering how much she could say without offering more false hope. "We've tinkered with it since then….his suggestions, mostly. I assumed he's updated his model to match….but…..well, I suppose I've been taught not to assume, and I just said that without thinking and…" And she was babbling.

But there was a stubborn set to Ianto's jaw. "How do we check?" he demanded. "There must be a way to know, Tosh."

Tosh sighed, cursing herself again for inadvertently offering that thread. Of course he'd latch onto it. What else was there? To abandon hope meant condemning Lisa to the rest of her life in the converter, in the basement of Torchwood. Of condemning Ianto to the rest of his life spent in this deception. And herself, too, because she couldn't take Retcon after this, couldn't condemn him to that bleak existence without her support.

Or, there was one more possibility, wasn't there? Giving up. Flicking the 'Off' switch. And if they did _that_, how long would it be before Ianto found a way to flick his own 'Off' switch? About as long as it took for Tosh to take her eyes off him, she knew. The first time she left him alone. The first time she slept. And she'd thought losing her best friend to Retcon was the worst that could happen. There was always worse than the worst you could imagine.

Well then, maybe the shred of hope wasn't such a bad thing, after all. It could win them time, if nothing else. Time to decide. Time to accept. At least he'd have the meager comfort of knowing he'd done everything he possibly could. It _might _be enough.

"We need the specs he's working from," Tosh said slowly.

"I'll get them," Ianto said confidently. "And then I just have to compare them to the converter, right?"

"We," Tosh corrected. Ianto smiled at her persistence, and Tosh didn't feel selfish anymore.

-XXX-

Tosh was working quietly at her desk, relishing the quiet in the main Hub, when the peace was shattered as the other three trooped up. Flushed, sweating, and smelling of cordite.

"Great practice, thanks gentlemen," Suzie said cheerfully as she dropped back into her seat.

"You should've come down, too, Toshiko," Owen said, blithely overlooking the fact that no one had asked her to join them. He checked his watch. "I've just got time for that dissection before lunch," he announced cheerfully. The metal staircase rattled as he jogged down to the autopsy bay.

"Good thing nothing puts him off his food," Suzie noted. She looked across at Tosh. "Where's Teaboy? I could murder a coffee."

"_Ianto's_ gone up to open the tourism office," Tosh said.

"Apparently Cardiff is expecting a day of good weather," Jack put in. "Which means tourists."

"And no coffee," Suzie concluded gloomily.

Jack grinned. "Sorry Suze, but keeping the cover story running is more important than our caffeine withdrawal headaches."

Suzie scowled at Jack, and then grinned at Tosh, her eyebrow wagging suggestively. "Did he give you want you wanted in the archives?" Tosh wouldn't notice the innuendo, but Jack would, and Suzie owed him a kick in the pride.

Tosh merely nodded vaguely, hoping Suzie wouldn't ask for details because she hadn't thought to bring anything back up as justification for the time she'd spent down there.

Both women jerked in their seats as the sound of Jack's office door slamming echoed across the Hub.

"What did you do to him this time?" Tosh asked, seizing on the chance to change the subject.

Suzie arranged her face into an expression of innocence. "Nothing," she protested. Inwardly she gloated at the evidence of her barb hitting home. It was petty, rubbing Jack's nose in the fact that Teaboy had blown him off – or hadn't, as the case may be – but she owed him for being so high-handed about her glove.

Toshiko didn't look very convinced, though. Suzie allowed her mouth to spread into a lascivious grin. "Unless I really did interrupt his plans for Owen in the shooting range." _That_ got Tosh off the scent. Damned quick. Prude.

Tosh stared at Jack's closed door. Owen, too? Was Jack trying it on with _everyone_?

It should make her feel better, shouldn't it? Relieved that he was moving on to a different target? But Tosh _didn't_ feel relieved, and she wasn't sure why.

Tosh hoped her subconscious would let her in on what it was planning. Soon. Before it got her into something _else _she couldn't handle.

-XXX-

Owen's dissection stunk. Really badly. Rotten eggs didn't compare.

"Sorry guys," Owen yelled. "Sulfur-based circulatory system. You won't notice it after a while." Easy to say when you were wearing a mask, Tosh thought, keeping her breathing shallow. Didn't help much.

Jack stuck his head out, sniffed, and swore. "Couldn't you have waited until we were out?" he demanded loudly.

"Couldn't you get me that containment lab I keep asking for?" Owen yelled back.

Jack retreated into his office where the air was still untainted, and closed the door firmly. His grin was clearly visible even through the glass.

"That is absolutely disgusting," Tosh complained. "It's giving me a headache." Which wasn't true, but she needed an excuse to get up to the tourism office and this would do nicely.

"It's not that bad," Suzie answered. Tosh noticed that the other woman had pulled out her welding mask, though. Which would add noise to the stench, and then she really would end up with that headache.

"I've got aspirin," Owen yelled. "Want me to bring you some?"

"No thanks," Tosh called back. Undignified, shouting across the office like this, but she wasn't getting any closer to that noxious whatever-it-was. "I think I'll go work upstairs. I haven't dismantled that mini-network yet, might as well get some use out of it."

"Wimp," Owen answered.

His erratic attention, Tosh mused, was almost as annoying as Jack's surveillance, and far more confusing.

"Time you toughened up, Princess," Suzie scoffed.

Suzie wasn't confusing. Suzie was just a bitch.

-XXX-

Ianto was busy arranging a tour of Cardiff Castle when Toshiko arrived, so she slipped quietly into the back room and waited.

"I've only just sent the request," Ianto told Tosh, after the group of tourists made their noisy departure. "I've been busy out there since I opened the door. This weather's brought everyone out." As if in proof, the door rattled open once more.

"I let you know as soon as anything arrives," Tosh promised. She loaded up her translator program and tried to lose herself in something she could fix if it didn't work. It was hard to concentrate though, give the way her eyes flickered constantly to the inbox, where Dr Tanizaki would send them hope, or dash it forever.

Ianto left Tosh to it and returned to his desk. It_ had_ been busy today. He'd already run out of ferry timetables and it wasn't even lunch yet.

Ianto hummed as he restocked the racks. Sometimes he could almost imagine this was real, out here, where he could see the sun and fill his lungs with the cleansing scent of the ocean. Just sometimes, when he let himself grasp at short snatches of sanity, when he allowed himself to imagine this was all there was, that he had a simple, undemanding job he could leave at the office. Sometimes he even let the dream take him home, where Lisa would be waiting for him, whole and warm and completely sane, both of them.

Sometimes Ianto pretended he had a life worth living.

-XXX-

Tosh wasn't sure what time it was in Japan. She could check, of course, but she'd have to look away from the Inbox for that, and whatever time it was, Dr Tanizaki was awake, because there was a huge attachment bottlenecking the mail server as it forced its way through. The hope she'd convinced herself was false suddenly grounded in a shred of reality, because the speed of his reply meant Dr Tanizaki wanted this as badly as they did. For reasons of his own, of course, but the reasons didn't matter, as long as the result was the same.

"Something's coming through," Tosh called to Ianto, her eyes fixed on the screen. The spare chair squeaked as he dragged it over to sit next to her. He didn't say a word, and he didn't reach for the mouse as the attachment came through either.

Their heads bumped as they tried to read the data together. Tosh pulled back, shaking her head, at herself, at them both, at how easy it was to grab onto _anything _to fend off despair.

"We can't do this from memory," she said firmly. "It'll have to be step-by-step, with the converter in front of us, and Lisa giving us feedback."

Ianto nodded. "We need an uninterrupted night in Lisa's room," he said. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "We need Jack out of the way."

Determination lit his eyes, and it was better than the hopelessness and confusion which had been there such a short time ago, but surely he couldn't mean…

A cold fist of dread punched right into Tosh's stomach. She couldn't let him. It'd destroy him. Which meant that….maybe she'd have to do it herself.

Tosh looked at her friend, trying to make her lips form the words, but she couldn't, not yet. She'd have to convince herself before she had any chance of convincing him.

And the bell rang in the tourism office again.

"That'll be lunch," Ianto announced, effortlessly assuming the butler mask. "Jack wants us to eat in the boardroom."

"Hope Owen's finished with that dissection," Tosh said absently.

Ianto laughed politely. Tosh watched the bead curtain sway as he left. It was odd, how well the movement matched the roaring in her ears.

She could hear Ianto chatting to Annie, the girl from Jubilee Pizza who always brought their deliveries – at least when Ianto ordered them. Tosh suspected Annie had a crush, and she felt sorry for the pretty young girl who'd never knock Lisa out of her place in Ianto's heart. If Jack couldn't manage it, what hope did poor Annie have?

Jack. Getting Jack out of the Hub. Ianto had done it so many times he must have lost count. He'd promised Lisa he wouldn't do it again, and the promise meant something to Ianto, even if it didn't to Lisa. But they had to get Jack out of the way…and it didn't have to be Ianto… but no, surely Jack didn't really want Toshiko that way. Jack knew about Tosh's past, and Jack knew all about her humiliating collapse the one time Owen had kissed her…..but Jack liked a challenge, even if Owen didn't.

Owen. Tosh could remember it so clearly, that brief, endless moment when it had all worked. When her heart had soared along with her heartbeat, before it all fell apart. Before _she _fell apart. And Owen had just backed away, backed off, because poor little broken Toshiko was too much effort.

Jack liked a challenge. Maybe he wanted to…..maybe he _could_ fix her.

The world stopped spinning.

In the back of a dingy fake tourism office, neck deep in conspiracy with her best friend, about to have a communal pizza lunch with the people she was betraying, Tosh finally accepted that this wasn't enough.

She was tired of being broken.

"Coming for lunch?" Ianto asked, holding the curtain aside.

Tosh blinked. "I….yes of course…" Tosh hoped he'd gotten drinks, too. Her throat was so dry she could hardly get the words out.

Ianto watched his friend carefully. He ignored her offer to help carry lunch. She hardly looked capable of holding herself up, let alone a stack of boxes.

The lift clanged shut. Tosh's eyes refocused.

"Something on your mind, Cariad?" Ianto asked carefully.

"Um. I was thinking about distracting Jack so we can get down to the basement…"

Tosh's thoughts spun fuzzily. Was she really going to do this? Maybe she should think about it some more. Should she ask Ianto's advice? His permission? It was his ex – kind of - she was planning to seduce – or to seduce into seducing her – or let herself be seduced by - and that pizza smelled nearly as bad as Owen's dissection.

Reality noticed she'd gone missing and swooped back on Tosh with a thump. She looked around wildly for a wastepaper bin in case the nausea churning through her stomach decided to make its way to the surface. But they were in the tunnel and there was nothing except bare walls. Tosh leaned against one and the cool stone against her neck did wonders for the nausea.

Ianto watched the sweat dry on her forehead, still concerned, but unwilling to push for an answer. He'd asked, she'd changed the subject. She'd tell him when she was ready – or not. Whatever it was, Tosh seemed to be getting it under control. And they did need to distract Jack.

"Yeah, about that," Ianto agreed. "Do you think you could get them all over to the pub again?"

Tosh blinked. The world returned to its usual job of spinning on its axis and her stomach slid into its proper place. The simplest solutions really were the best. This wasn't the right moment for life-changing decisions after all. Time and place, Tosh chided herself. She'd work on fixing Lisa first, and then she'd have the rest of her life to work on herself. At least now she accepted she needed work, and wasn't that the first step to healing?

"I'm sure I can. Tonight?" Drinks with her friends. They might not really be friends yet, but they could be. She wouldn't be deceiving them for much longer. She wouldn't even remember she'd deceived them in the first place. She could start again.

Ianto smiled. "I'll print out those specs," he agreed.

"And I'll slip back and help you," Tosh offered. "It's too big a task for one person."

She had just over two weeks to spend with her best friend before she forgot their friendship. Tosh resolved silently not to waste another minute in useless regrets. She grinned broadly. "It'll be just like old times."

Ianto smiled back and shifted his grip on the pizza boxes. And the smell coming from inside them was mouthwatering.

-XXX-

They ate in the Boardroom, with the door tightly closed against the fumes still drifting through from the autopsy bay. Which meant Suzie had a captive audience for her latest passion. Couldn't that woman do _anything_ without getting obsessed?

"So it sounds like he's getting close, Jack, and I have to say I'm worried about him," Suzie confided. And she _was_ worried, Tosh realized. It wasn't just attention seeking. Suzie was tense. She'd shredded more of her pizza than she'd eaten, and part of the box as well. _And_ the label off her bottle of cola. "I'm going to check up on him later tonight," Suzie concluded.

Jack drummed his fingers on the table. Ianto reached across and moved a glass out of his way as the vibrations pushed it closer to edge. Tosh swallowed a giggle along with her mouthful of Vegetarian's Indulgence as she realized how much in tune those two were even while avoiding eye contact.

"It's not Torchwood business," Jack cautioned. "There's no reason to believe the Slasher is anything other than human."

"But he could be in danger," Suzie protested. "He's trying to make a name for himself, I think. I just want to talk him out of doing anything stupid."

That was almost a shock. It was the most humanity Suzie had displayed since the first time she'd connected with the glove. Tosh hoped Jack wouldn't quash it. Owen shifted uneasily in the seat beside her.

"It's in her own time, Jack," he commented.

Tosh wondered if she was the only one who saw Jack's eyes flick to Ianto. She was sure, however, that she was the only one to see the tiny nod Ianto gave in response.

Jack munched the rest of his slice of pizza before answering.

"I wasn't trying to stop you," Jack concluded, somewhat unconvincingly, "But you'd better not try to claim overtime."

Suzie frowned, but didn't argue. Inside, she was dancing a jig. She had the perfect alibi now, if anyone happened to remember seeing her with the detective tonight. Trying to keep him safe. The rest of the team would probably be all sympathetic if her police friend turned up in a gutter tomorrow morning. Not that it would happen if Suzie could avoid it, but it was best to be prepared.

Owen's seat creaked again as he relaxed back into his chair.

Tosh cleared her throat. "Hey guys, we haven't been out together for ages. Who's up for a few drinks tonight?"

Jack smiled. "It's been a rough few days, I think we could all use the chance to relax. Good idea, Tosh."

Owen smiled. "Better than good. Brilliant idea, Ms Sato."

Tosh didn't bother to fight the warm glow.

"I'll have time for one before I have to meet my contact," Suzie said pompously.

Tosh hid the smile, that time. Let Suzie feel important if she needed to.

"And probably come back afterwards, if you make a night out of it," Suzie added.

"Yeah, you can drive us home if we get slaughtered," Owen agreed.

Suzie leaned back and smiled. She didn't care about the superior smirk on Toshiko's face. Her alibi was getting better and better. If the boys drank enough, they'd take her word for it when she told them what time she'd arrived to take them home. Toshiko wouldn't be a problem. She'd do her usual one-drink-and-escape routine.

Jack attacked the rest of his pizza, demonstrating his lack of table manners yet again. Tosh fought the urge to wipe the cheese off his chin, and nearly giggled again as she saw Ianto's fingers twitch toward a napkin. She'd never know whether he would actually have gone as far as wiping Jack's face, because Jack reached out without looking and took the napkin.

They really would have made a great couple, if things were different. Such a shame.

Tosh's mind was certainly doing strange things today. She couldn't really mean that. The only way this could have been different was if Lisa had died at Canary Wharf.

_Or if she doesn't make it._

No. Tosh wasn't really hoping for that. She couldn't be. She wasn't that selfish. She was going to enjoy these last couple of weeks and start over. Heal. Be whole again.

Why did it feel easier to stay broken that to work towards healing?

No, it wasn't that. She didn't want to stay like this. It was just that she was just going to miss Ianto so much.

Until the Retcon took hold.

Bloody Retcon. Why did Jack have to invent it in the first place?

* * *

**Please bear with me if this seems to have gone off in a strange direction. I'm trying to lay the foundations for later chapters. It'll make sense eventually. (I hope)**


	34. Chapter 34

**I'd hoped to get to the end of Everything Changes by this chapter, but Suzie had other ideas.  
I don't want to count how many chapters it's taken me to get through a single episode, I can only thank you all for your patience and hope you continue to enjoy.**

**

* * *

**

"You're buying the first round, Tosh," Owen announced.

"I always buy the first round," Tosh protested.

"'Cause it's always your idea," Owen answered.

Jack's eyes sparkled. "Faultless logic," he agreed.

"And you always leave after one, so if you didn't buy the first lot, you'd never pay," Suzie added.

Tosh favored them with her best attempt at an unfriendly glare, which wasn't really very good. She didn't have the right sort of face for unfriendly.

"It also means no-one ever buys a drink for me," Tosh pointed out.

"Stay longer then," Jack suggested. "I'll buy the next."

"You gotta stay now," Owen urged. "Jack doesn't open his wallet for just anyone, you know."

"And Toshiko's far from just anyone," Jack parried.

A tingle shot along Tosh's spine and she hurried to the bar without further debate. It was all in her mind. Jack wasn't really flirting with her, at least, not seriously. Even if he was, she didn't have to do anything about it. Not if she didn't want to. Which she didn't. At least, she didn't _want_ to want to do anything about it, which was a sure sign of uncertainty at least. Was it possible to be sure that you were uncertain? Tosh shook her head in despair at her internal rambling and ordered the drinks.

And Owen didn't really want her to stay; he was just using it as an excuse to have a shot at Jack.

Tosh glanced back over her shoulder, squirming beneath the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Jack was still smiling at her. Suzie probably wasn't, but she had her back to the bar, so Tosh couldn't really tell. But Owen….Owen was looking at her, but he wasn't smiling anymore. The butterflies lying dormant in Tosh's stomach emerged from their cocoons and took flight at the intensity of his gaze.

_Maybe if Jack 'fixes' me, something could happen with Owen, after all._

Tosh summoned her courage, raised her eyes to meet Owen's and watched as his head turned sharply away. The butterflies decided their wings were too wet for flight and flopped weakly into the bottom of her gut in a sodden heap.

-XXX-

"We should get started," Lisa urged.

"I don't want to do this without Tosh if we don't have to," Ianto said firmly. "It's too important to risk making any mistakes."

Lisa's brow creased into a frown. "Why is it so important, Ianto? It's just another stack of tests. Just that fussy old man being picky."

Ianto swallowed heavily and stared at Lisa. He didn't know how long he could keep up the cheerful façade, but he didn't want to frighten Lisa, either. He grasped her hand and stroked it, unable to decide who the gesture was supposed to reassure.

"It's the last lot before he comes over," Ianto said weakly. "I – we - want to make sure he's working from the right data."

"If he just got over here he'd have the real thing to work on," Lisa said impatiently. "Why doesn't he get on a plane and get on with it?"

Lisa watched Ianto shifting from foot to foot. Something was wrong, and he _still_ thought she was too weak to accept it. Fool. Why couldn't he _see_? Though really, Lisa corrected herself, it was better he stayed blind, just for the moment. He couldn't possibly understand, not yet. She'd have to go carefully for a while longer.

Lisa marshaled everything the books told her about how she was supposed to behave. When it was all firm in her in mind, she carefully arranged her face into a trusting expression and manipulated her vocalizing equipment to pitch her voice low and soft, which ought to project trust, too. Ianto's guilt at deceiving her would do the rest.

"Ianto, is there something you haven't told me?" Lisa asked softly.

Ianto's shoulders slumped. "Kind of," he mumbled.

_How satisfying. It worked._

"Go on, Ianto," Lisa urged, still using the voice that had worked so well.

Ianto picked up the thick hard-copy file he'd printed out after Tosh took the others to the pub and brought it to Lisa's side, holding it so she could see the first few pages. Her eyes flickered rapidly as she absorbed the data.

"That's my converter," she said. "He's running tests on my converter!"

Ianto shuddered at the possessive note in his girlfriend's voice.

"On a simulation of your converter," he corrected.

Lisa prevented her eyes from rolling by sheer force of will.

"Dr Tanizaki has been running through the process of freeing you on his simulations," Ianto continued, "And they're…they're not going as well as he'd hoped."

It wasn't hard to produce the appropriate frown.

_I bet he killed me on every simulation he ran. Doddering old idiot. If only I could use my own hands!_

"So if he can't get it right on the simulations, we don't want him messing around with me, do we?" Lisa said, carefully working her way back to the trust-inducing tone.

Ianto looked at her with an unconvincing smile. Lisa thought smugly that she could have done it better, if she tried. It was such a waste of energy, though, spending all this time mastering human expressions when she'd have no use for them, _after_.

"Right," Ianto agreed. "But we want to check whether he's working from the right data, so he knows exactly what to expect when he arrives. So we're going to compare these specs to, as you said, the real thing. And we can't risk making any mistakes now, Lisa. So let's just wait for Tosh, OK? Please sweetheart?"

Something rippled through Lisa. Something unexpected. Possibly an endocrine imbalance. She'd have to ask Tosh to check the delivery mechanism.

_I want to yell at him, hit out, lash out. Odd. Those reactions match the checklist for projecting frustration, maybe even anger. Am I angry? Can I still feel angry? I thought I'd finally gotten rid of all those messy emotional responses. Interesting to experience, if not very useful. Something to be careful of, though. If I'm going to project emotions, I want to be able to plan them for maximum impact._

Lisa arranged her features into a smile. "I'm sure you know best, Ianto. We'll wait for Tosh."

-XXX-

Tosh lingered deliberately long enough to order a second drink, which she made sure Jack _didn't_ pay for. "Your round, Suzie," Tosh said pointedly. "Since you were planning on leaving early, too."

"Our kitten has claws," Jack said proudly.

Suzie curled her fingers into claws and made an unflattering cat-noise.

"That wasn't a very convincing cat, Suzie," Tosh said sweetly. "I think you'd make a good dog, though."

Owen's eyes widened at the implied insult. Tosh continued to surprise him. He ached for what he'd been too blind to see, and envied Teaboy for his clearer vision. But right at the moment, there was another catfight to head off, and Jack wouldn't make a move to stop something so potentially entertaining.

"I think Tosh's just scared of the number of moths that'll erupt from our esteemed leader's wallet if he actually paid for his own drink," Owen said loudly.

Catfight successfully deflected. Jack pouted. Tosh giggled. Suzie laughed and made her way to the bar. Owen sighed. Another friendly night out with Torchwood. Honestly, why did they bother?

Tosh eyed her second drink dubiously. It probably wasn't a good idea, considering she'd need her mental faculties in good working order for the task waiting back at the Hub. But given the thoughts running through her head right now, Tosh decided she needed something to steady her. Alcohol was the age-old crutch that everyone leaned on at moments like this. Tosh sipped her wine slowly and responded vaguely to her team-mates antics as she tried to bring order to the chaos in her mind.

Had she actually considered using a colleague? Not just any colleague, but her _boss_. And not just using him, but using him to improve her chances of snaring_ another_ colleague? Yes, she had. This wasn't good. Tosh concluded she'd been at Torchwood too long, if she was starting to believe that indulging in an impersonal, emotionless entanglement would help her recover from the effects of a brutal impersonal entanglement.

There was one inescapable conclusion though, and it warmed all the lonely places in her mind and heart. If she was thinking this seriously about it, maybe she was finally healing. When the time came, when the right person appeared, she'd be ready. No more meltdowns.

Tosh decided to slip away when Owen and Jack started debating over who had to buy the next round. Unfortunately, Suzie beat her to it. "You won't have to pay for mine," Suzie announced, as she rose from her seat. "I'm off."

"Enjoy your date," Owen called after her. Suzie jerked the appropriate finger back over her shoulder.

Tosh gathered up her belongings shortly after the door banged closed behind Suzie. Apparently Owen had lost the argument. Tosh smiled and waved away his offer of a drink. "I'd better go, too," she said. "While I'm still fit to drive." She'd only be driving her car into an underground park where Jack and Owen wouldn't see it when they left the bar, but it was a handy excuse anyway.

"See you boys tomorrow," Tosh added brightly.

Tosh didn't see the way both men watched her leave. She was too busy wondering whether Ianto and Lisa had gotten impatient enough to start without her. And how she could convince them to re-start if they had.

"Bit of a bounce in her step," Owen said. His effort to hide the bitterness in his voice was commendable if completely ineffective.

"She's growing more confident by the day," Jack agreed. His tone was bland, probably the result of the combination of pride in Toshiko that tried to warn him and inadmissible regret at the loss of Ianto which left him cold.

-XXX-

Suzie practically ran from the bar. Toshiko would leave soon, and Suzie didn't want to take the risk that the other woman would offer her company for the meeting.

Suzie had been on edge all evening; sure the knife in her bag was screaming its presence. The knife. Suzie didn't know if she could go through with this. The knife and the glove belonged together. She shouldn't use the knife without the glove. She shouldn't use the knife _except_ for the glove. Otherwise she'd be a murderer. Suzie didn't consider herself a murderer, at least not yet. Every time she used the knife, she hoped with all her heart and soul – if she had one – that the people she stabbed wouldn't stay dead. It couldn't be murder, Suzie reasoned, when she knew beforehand that she was going to bring them back.

But if she used the knife on the detective tonight, knowing the glove was out of reach, she crossed that self-imposed line. It _would_ be murder. But if she didn't…..

The police had an accurate diagram of the knife. It might be restricted to the police now, but when they didn't find its match anywhere they'd eventually release it to the press. And then everyone in Torchwood would see it, and they'd know. Or suspect.

Jack didn't hesitate to act on suspicions. He'd have her imprisoned, at least. In that prison Tosh had come from, most likely. Suzie shuddered at the very thought. She'd rather be dead. And _that _thought made her lips curl. Yes, death would be preferable to prison. It wouldn't last as long. Still, she wasn't really eager for either option, just yet. And so, back to the knife. If using the knife would prevent her own death, wasn't it self-defense?

Suzie dropped her bag onto the passenger seat and reached inside, running her fingers along the blades, relishing the smooth curves, the perfect angles. Something bumped against her thumb. Something that rattled. Oh, the Retcon. She'd planned to try Retcon first. Somehow that didn't seem as important now, with the shaft of the knife fitting so perfectly into her palm, sleek and smooth and warming beneath her touch.

-XXX-

Owen placed his empty glass carefully back onto its coaster, just for something to do with his hands. "Your round," he announced. "And don't think you're getting out of it just because you're back onto water." Jack had a pattern for these things. Water filled his glass on each alternate round on the few occasions Owen coaxed him out nowadays. Owen had a theory Jack did it to make his own rounds cheaper.

They nursed their fresh drinks in silence.

"Wanna come prowling?" Owen offered, with a distinct lack of animation.

Jack's brows arched. "Don't drown me in enthusiasm, Owen."

"Still recovering from last night's threesome," Owen answered, wagging his own brows suggestively. "But you know what they say, get back on the horse that threw you."

Owen basked in Jack's crude laugh of appreciation. Might as well make the most of the memory, since he wouldn't be repeating the feat. He'd decided not to use the pheromone spray anymore. For some reason, it made him uneasy now. Probably because of how close Suzie had come to having Jack find the knife, Owen concluded. It might be time to slip the bottle back into the archives and hope no-one had ever recorded the original volume. Teaboy had helped Suzie with the glove, maybe he'd extend the helping hand to Owen as well.

Owen drained the dregs from his glass. More water than scotch, now that the ice had melted. "So what do you say, then?" he demanded. "The old team loose in Cardiff again?"

Jack shook his head. "Not in the mood."

Probably wasn't worth trying then, Owen decided gloomily. He'd been relying on that spray for a while now, didn't know if he could be bothered with the effort it'd take to pull on his own merits. That was why he'd wanted Jack along. The birds flocked around Jack, and didn't seem to mind taking Owen as a consolation prize when they missed out.

But here was Jack, the sex king of Cardiff, wrinkling his nose at the idea.

"God, he's gelded you," Owen snarked.

Jack speared him with a flat, unfriendly stare. "I don't notice you shivering with anticipation either," he shot back. Wood screeched against tile as Jack shoved his chair away. "I'm heading back to the Hub. Have fun. Assuming you can pick up with your current sunshiny face, that is."

Owen drained his glass and watched Jack's coat billow as he sailed out of the bar. He wasn't the only one watching. The man certainly knew how to make an exit. Lost in his brooding, Owen didn't notice the speculative, even admiring glances from the woman collecting their empty glasses. Or the one at the next table who kept nudging her chair closer to his. If he had, he might have added 'dark and brooding' to his list of pickup techniques.

But Owen couldn't see past the dark eyes that filled his vision. Eyes that looked past him and softened as they gazed at a face that wasn't his. His empty stomach churned unpleasantly along with his thoughts and the pub suddenly felt oppressive.

Owen rose abruptly to his feet. His chair bumped into another and he muttered an apology to the woman sitting in it, not even hearing her cheerful response. He'd go home. An early night wouldn't do him any harm. It was only when he paused to hold the door open for the woman behind him that he realized she was the same one. The one sitting at the next table. The one who'd shifted her chair so close to him that he'd knocked into it when he left. Damn, damn and bloody hell. Owen saw the dirty look he received as the missed opportunity stalked past him and cursed himself for his inattentiveness. He turned his coat collar up against a biting wind and walked rapidly towards home, reflecting sourly that he was getting too bloody good at missing what was sitting right under his nose.

-XXX-

Toshiko was busy with the laptop she'd lugged in with her. "If the signal's strong enough I should be able to connect with the network in the tourism office," she explained. "Which means we'll be able to send our findings straight through to Dr Tanizaki."

"You're brilliant, Tosh," Ianto said gratefully.

Tosh waved a dismissive hand. "That's what they all say." She smiled with satisfaction as the network connected. "We're in."

"Should we cheer yet?" Lisa asked.

"Not yet," Tosh answered, blithely ignoring what might be sarcasm. Maybe Lisa wasn't doing it intentionally. It was difficult to tell, lately. "Let's see what we can come up with first," Tosh continued. She looked up at Ianto expectantly. "You've got a hard copy, right? I'll record the results as you go."

"Tosh, you should do the testing," Lisa protested. "You're the technical genius."

Tosh watched the pain flit across Ianto's face at what amounted to a rejection by the woman he loved. Irrationally, she wondered whether it would really hurt Lisa if she slapped her. At which Tosh gave herself a mental slap. It might not hurt Lisa, but it would certainly hurt Ianto.

"Ianto knows what he's doing," Tosh said firmly.

Ianto moved into position behind the laptop, nudging Tosh out of the chair.

"Lisa's right, Tosh," he said quietly. "I've spent the whole evening telling her why you should be here for this. I….we…..can't risk any mistakes. You do it, please Cariad."

Somehow Tosh could never refuse Ianto when he called her that. He probably knew it, too.

They'd hardly started when the echo of grinding gears broke their concentration. Two heads snapped around, searching for the source. Lisa closed her eyes, the better to focus her other senses.

"The lift," she confirmed. "One passenger."

"Jack then," Ianto said. "He's back early. We'll have to be careful."

Tosh smiled mischievously. "We'd better keep an eye on him." Her fingers played across the keyboard and her smile broadened as a new window opened on the screen, showing Jack descending through the Hub.

Ianto whistled. "You hacked into the CCTV?"

Tosh shrugged. She had no idea why her relationship with Lisa had developed this competitive edge, but it looked like Tosh had won this round, anyway. "I'm a technical genius, remember."

-XXX-

Suzie viewed the man slumped across the table with mixed emotions. In spite of her recent moral gymnastics, she hadn't really convinced herself that killing the detective was anything less than murder. So, on one level she was infinitely relieved that circumstances forced her to take the Retcon path. He was quite nice, Detective Dafydd Evans was. Not bad looking, either, and no trace of a wedding ring. Had things gone a bit differently, Suzie would have been up for quite a different method of distraction tonight.

She ran a hand affectionately through the sleeping man's hair and sighed gently. On another level she accepted the Retcon was probably only delaying the inevitable.

Still, she had neither the time or the inclination to deal with that tonight. After what Dafydd had told her, Suzie knew there was a far more immediate threat to be dealt with. Which had the bonus of being far less likely to be traced back to herself.

Suzie left Dafydd sleeping and moved casually to the bar. She got the bartender's attention by waving her wallet, whereupon she flipped the man a small pile of notes. "Get my friend there into a cab when he wakes up," she directed. She laid a soggy cardboard coaster on top of the notes. "His address is on that. You won't have to frisk him for it." Dafydd's phone number was on the coaster too, but unfortunately he wouldn't remember the date they'd arranged. Not that it would have happened anyway. Too risky.

The murky lighting caught the diamond in the barman's nose-stud as his face screwed into a frown. "What's in it for me?" he demanded.

Suzie sighed heavily and doubled the pile of notes on the bar. "Half for you, half for the driver," she answered.

The bartender had a diamond embedded in his front tooth as well. The grin which displayed the jewel made it abundantly clear that he intended on keeping all the money and probably just throwing the unconscious patron out into the street if he hadn't woken by closing time. Suzie sighed impatiently and turned to leave. She didn't have time for this. She'd tried. Detective Evans would either wake by himself or someone would find him.

Halfway to the door Suzie's mind played out the rest of the scenario. In this particular area, whoever found him would be sure to rifle the unconscious body. Maybe they'd find the ID, twig that the bloke was a cop and then – well, Suzie wouldn't have to worry about ever having to use the knife on him. Poor Dafydd wouldn't even have the honor of dying in the line of duty, at least not officially.

Suzie's feet froze at the thought. She couldn't do it, and somewhere deep inside she was glad. She returned to the bar, where she leaned and loomed until the diamond studded dope favored her with his attention.

In a fluid movement, the wad of notes flattened beneath Suzie's impressive handgun. "I'll be checking he gets home safely," Suzie said softly. She'd spent ages getting that particular tone of voice right. _Almost _her usual tone, but so laced with menace that far more impressive foes had retreated with their tails between their legs – quite literally, in the case of several alien adversaries.

Suzie watched with satisfaction as sweat broke out on the bartender's forehead. "My brother-in-law's got his own cab," he said, in a flatteringly breathless tone. Suzie knew she was good, but it was nice to have confirmation. "I'll make sure he gets your mate home."

"Of course you will," Suzie agreed, keeping the threat in her voice. Her gun slid smoothly back into her hand. "I mean, this isn't a bad place, but I'm sure you don't really want me to visit again, do you love?"

All that remained was to sweep out of the bar and wait until she was out of earshot to release the laugh bubbling inside her chest. God, that felt good! And now…..every trace of mirth fled. Now to handle the real problem.

The sketch of the knife was on display at the police station. That alone had convinced Suzie to use the Retcon. Not for the forgetfulness so much as the other properties she'd discovered in the process of filling Max with his regular doses.

Every member of Torchwood knew about the post-hypnotic powers of Retcon. It was how they planted false memories. But Suzie had discovered, by accident actually, that the hypnosis worked both ways. Yes, of course you could tell them anything, and they'd believe it, but you could _ask _anything, too. And just like hypnosis, they'd come up with details their conscious mind filtered out as irrelevant.

Tonight Suzie had discovered the names of every person who'd seen that sketch. She'd been particularly anxious about Kathy Swanson, a local copper who really had it in for Torchwood. But it hadn't been Kathy's name Detective Evans came out with. It was someone far less important in the grand scheme of things, but potentially much more dangerous, as far as Suzie was concerned.

Bloody interfering Constable Gwen Cooper. Who'd seen the Hub. Seen the knife. Seen the knife sitting on its rack right behind Suzie, just as Jack announced 'Suzie Costello.'

As visuals go, it was too strong to disregard. And that Welsh policewoman was too bloody curious for her own good.

Too bloody curious for her own health.

* * *

**The detective is supposed to be the one we see chatting to Gwen when she's looking at the sketch. I couldn't find any mention of his name so I invented one - if anyone does know it please tell me and I will edit.**

**Thank you for reading.**

**Warning for the next chapter - there will be a character death, well, two actually. But you were expecting that, right?**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hello, sorry about the wait. The chapter doesn't go as far as I'd planned, but a certain element is giving me problems, so I decided to post what I had while I fix the rest. **

* * *

"I'd forgotten what the outside world looked like," Lisa whispered.

"It's not really outside," Ianto commented, smiling fondly down at Lisa, noting with a pang how her eyes remained glued on the image displayed in miniature in the corner of Tosh's laptop. Poor Lisa. She'd seen nothing but this room for so long, even the dingy Hub must look exotic. His heart would have broken for her, if it wasn't in so many pieces already.

Lisa didn't answer. Her eyes might be fixed on what she could see of the small screen, but she wasn't paying close attention at the moment. Her mind whirled with the possibilities offered by the surveillance system. With access to CCTV, she'd know exactly where everyone was after she left the metal cradle she'd outgrown.

_I can target the next subject. I won't have to wait for them to happen by; I can go looking, without anyone seeing me. It'll be so much easier, so much more organized….._

Ianto looked hopefully at Tosh. "Can we get exterior?"

"We can," Tosh said awkwardly, switching the views. It was late. The deserted Plass gleamed from the recent rain. The change of view caught Lisa's attention, drawing a strangled gasp. She hadn't even thought about this. About how to proceed after she – no, it would be _they _by then – after _they_ had the Hub under control. The usual practice was to proceed in force, but of course they wouldn't _have _force. With the CCTV, though, they could wait, select, and take only the best. One passerby after another, until they were strong enough…..oh, this would be perfect. Imagination was only a byproduct of the human biology still within her, something she'd have to eradicate, but it was satisfying to imagine her sleek silver army emerging from the depths.

_My army, our army, shining beneath the moon, on a night just like this, with the Plass silver, too. The Army of Steel, shining, clean and perfect. The Earth is so foul, so dirty. We'll erase it, clean it, perfect it._

"I'm sorry, Lisa, Ianto, but we can't keep the CCTV down here," Tosh said apologetically. Her voice and her words shattered the dream, and for one burning moment Lisa hated the woman who'd done so much for her.

_Odd._ _I can feel anger, but not gratitude. Hate, but not love. I suppose it makes sense. I've eliminated the least useful emotions first._

"We need it tonight," Tosh continued, talking around the knot of guilt in her throat as the light died from Lisa's eyes. "We can't risk the type of power drain we'll want for the volume of testing tonight, without knowing where Jack is every second. But we can't risk him noticing a feed going down here, either, and he will if it becomes constant. I'm really sorry, Lisa, but I'll have to dismantle this we're finished."

"It's OK," Ianto said, squeezing Tosh's shoulder. "It's only for a couple more weeks, right Lisa?"

Lisa forced her lips to smile. "Sure, I'll see all I want once we're out of here."

_It's only a minor setback, after all. Toshiko will still remember how to hack into the CCTV after her upgrade._

-XXX-

Suzie had always prided herself on her planning skills. She'd been proactive before it became a buzzword. So it was it particularly frustrating to realise she'd been running on reaction ever since seeing the sketch.

She was past that now. She'd caught up with herself in that seedy pub. Suzie strolled across the car park, feeling quite pleased with herself for keeping Dafydd Evans safe. Odd, she wasn't thinking about him as Detective Evans anymore. A psychologist would have a field day with that.

It was a shame he'd wake up in his own home with a blank spot in his mind where Suzie Costello used to be, though.

Suzie unlocked her car, debating whether it would be worth the effort of re-introducing herself, so Dafydd Evan's mind would have something other than Torchwood to associate any re-emerging memories with. Yeah, worth a try. She'd quite liked him. He was a nice man, not to mention a useful contact. Suzie didn't want to end up having to kill him if he broke the Retcon. She could eliminate the possibility if she worked things so he connected her with another part of his life – the personal part, for instance.

Jack might have invented Retcon, but no-one knew how it worked better than Suzie Costello. She knew what it did and why it failed. Memory recurrence was far more common that Jack's pride allowed him to believe. The human mind resisted blank spots, so it fought the effects of the amnesia drug. But give that struggling mind the faintest connection and it would happily build its own bridges. Given time, Dafydd Evans would simply believe he'd made the mistake of taking his new girlfriend to that seedy pub. It would be one of those horror stories new couples always seem to have.

Suzie smiled to herself. She _really_ liked that idea. It had so many benefits, even apart from the obvious. Pillow talk was nearly as good as Retcon at extracting classified information, so she'd be able to keep tabs on the investigation. Giving Dafydd a new basis for memories would keep Suzie safe from discovery - as long as she didn't give him a reason to connect her to Torchwood. Suzie bit her lip for a moment, deep in thought. Difficult, she concluded, but not impossible. She should be able to work around him, given all the other police contacts she'd cultivated. Suzie felt almost noble as she considered the effort she was willing to put in to keep this man alive.

And if they _were_ together, she'd be right on the spot if it ever became imperative to kill him. Domestic violence was quite common in high-pressure jobs. Jack would accept her story of self-defense, and Torchwood had no peer when it came to cover ups.

There, all planned. Now what next? Oh yes, she'd promised to give the boys a lift home. She didn't need them for an alibi anymore, but letting them down might spark their curiosity about what she'd been up to tonight.

Suzie whistled to herself as she drove back towards the Hub. She might even join the boys for a pint. Make a night of it.

The whistle died on her lips as she considered her next step. No pint. She couldn't really afford to take time out to relax tonight, not until she'd eliminated the other threat. That nice little future with Dafydd couldn't happen if Constable Cooper broke through her own dose of Retcon.

-XXX-

Owen was nearly asleep when his phone rang. It wasn't Jack's ring tone, so he ignored it. But whoever it was, they were persistent. Owen finally roused himself enough to check the caller ID. Suzie. Damn. He'd forgotten she was going to catch up with them after her meeting.

And he could just imagine the scathing comments if she found out he was tucked up in bed this early. Screw that. Owen jabbed the radio beside his bed until a rock station blared forth, and finally reached for the phone.

"What?" he demanded irritably. "Speak up, would you? It's noisy in here."

"Nice way to speak to a friend keeping a promise," Suzie yelled. "I'm just about to head back to the pub. Show some gratitude if you still want that ride home."

"Forget it," Owen answered grumpily. "We aren't there any more." It was true, they weren't. Let her think he was still having a fine old time on the town with Jack. Apart from protecting his rep, he wouldn't put it past Suzie to offer to join him if she knew he was alone. Or in bed.

"You could've let me know," Suzie snapped. But it couldn't be better, really. Owen and Jack were out on the town together, leaving the Hub nice and empty. Everything Suzie needed for dealing with Constable Cooper was in the Hub and now she wouldn't have to think of an excuse for going back.

Owen grunted. "Lovely mood you're in. Struck out with your detective friend, did you?"

Suzie thought quickly. She'd been planning to say the detective hadn't turned up, but her pride balked at telling Owen that. And it might be best if Owen didn't know she was in the vicinity of the Hub.

"He's very nice, actually," she shot back. "Impressed by my devotion to my loser workmates."

"Best you get back to him then," Owen snarked. "Before he finds someone even more desperate than you are." He slammed the phone back onto its cradle without waiting for Suzie's retort. It was a good exit line, and he was too tired for this crap.

Suzie grinned wolfishly as the dial tone sounded in her ear. She didn't care that Owen had more baiting material, as long as he remembered the call. If it became necessary for Gwen Cooper to have an unfortunate accident tonight, Owen would be Suzie's alibi, however reluctant.

-XXX-

Ianto frowned at the CCTV. "I didn't expect Jack back so early," he fretted. "I thought you'd be able to get away, Tosh."

They watched Jack aimlessly pottering around the Hub. "I thought he'd stay out with Owen, too," Tosh agreed.

On the screen, Jack disappeared into this office.

"His bedroom's down there," Ianto noted. "Once he goes down that hatch, he won't be back out for hours. If we had a way of disabling the cog alarm, we could sneak you out when we're finished."

"You sound so confident, Ianto," Lisa commented. "You know his routine perfectly, don't you?"

Tosh wanted to slap Lisa again as a painful blush dyed Ianto's cheeks.

"You've done so much to protect me," Lisa added. "I wonder if I'll ever be able to show you how grateful I am."

_Then again, I'll be making you invincible. That ought to do it._

Ianto smiled dotingly. "You don't have to do anything Lisa. Just get better."

_I'll be better, all right. So will you. _

Tosh shook herself. "Let's get started."

_You'll be better, too. We all will._

-XXX-

Suzie parked her car in a secluded spot. The first item on her mental checklist was to discover whether seeing the sketch earlier today had triggered Constable Cooper's memory. The first twenty-four hours from the trigger point were crucial. If recall didn't happen within that period, the associated memories would slip back into the realms of the subconscious. Well, assuming Cooper didn't stumble across that sketch again; and surely there was no reason for a lowly PC to be hobnobbing with the detectives on a regular basis.

No reason for the sketch to circulate, as long as there were no further murders to spur the police on. And there wouldn't be. Suzie had no reason to use the knife again, now that Jack had taken the glove away. So, no new murders, no reason for the sketch to re-surface. And with no fresh evidence, the police would eventually stop looking. Move on to fresher crimes. They probably wouldn't bother to release the sketch to the media after all.

No reason to use the knife again. No chance to use the glove. She'd never again feel that rush as the glove connected, as she quite literally held the power of life and death in the palm of her hand. A slow rage built deep within Suzie as the sense of loss took hold and twisted inside her, physically, mentally, emotionally excruciating. She'd been so close, on the very brink of discovering the key to immortality, for herself, for the whole human race.

It was all down to that bloody interfering policewoman. If PC Cooper hadn't followed Torchwood in the first place, they'd never have been confined to the Hub. Jack wouldn't have gotten bored enough to dredge through the finances. Wouldn't have noticed how much money Suzie had poured into the glove. Finances! Like he'd ever cared before. It was only because he was bored that day. And of course, if Gwen Cooper hadn't wormed her way into the Hub after, she'd never have seen the knife. More importantly, she'd never have seen _Suzie_ with the knife.

Suzie stopped herself on the brink of hyperventilating. Jack had Retconned Cooper. She'd forgotten all of it. Suzie had no reason to kill the woman unless she remembered. She didn't _want _to kill her, _but oh, she did. _Her very existence was a threat.

_No._ Suzie calmed her breathing by sheer force of will. Suzie Costello wasn't a murderer. She didn't kill for her own benefit. Suzie took life in the interests of saving it, like a general in a war, sacrificing a few for the greater good. A soldier crusading against death, that's what she was. She'd seek an alternative to death, even for this annoying woman.

Right then. Into the Hub, find whatever Teaboy had used to track the policewoman, keep an eye on her movements for the next day or so. When she showed no sign of renewed memory, it would be safe to commence the campaign to attract Dafydd Evans. And then, oh, that would fix everything. If Gwen Cooper saw Suzie after that, she'd associate any recurring memories of the knife with the detective rather than his new girlfriend. The future beckoned warmly, offering Suzie inviting images of the life she would build outside of Torchwood.

Suzie slipped out of her car and walked across the rain-wet Plass, keeping to the shadows, dodging CCTV. Minimizing the footage she'd have to delete to cover up tonight's visit to the Hub. Moonlight gilded the water tower, apart from that one spot where something blocked the reflection.

Suzie froze. Watched. Not something. Some_one_. Someone female, by the shape. Someone with dark hair framing a pale face.

Moonlight leached into Suzie's veins, turning warm blood to ice water, flushing out the future, washing away hope. Cold, so cold. It was Gwen Bloody Cooper. Roaming the Plass again. She'd remembered. She must have remembered.

Plans rushed through Suzie's mind. Plans, backup plans, fail-safes. She'd planned for everything. Had she planned for this? Not quite, but she could improvise.

The knife was in her bag. The glove was in the Hub. The Hub was empty. Jack was out with Owen. Use the knife. Get the glove. It wasn't murder if she used the glove after. The glove would help Suzie find out whether Gwen, no, PC Cooper, had told anyone else what she'd remembered.

Suzie's muscles tensed. Adrenaline built, fizzing through her veins, heating the ice. The Cardiff Slasher would rule the streets for one last night. A frenzied finale, and then vanish forever. Long range planning was good, but there was nothing like thinking on your feet.

OK, finish here first, then back to that dingy pub. Or would Dafydd be home by now? . No matter, she knew his address. She'd gotten it from his ID after he passed out and given it to the barman so Daffyd would get home safely. Ironic. Suzie would have stamped her foot if the noise wasn't such a risk. She _didn't_ _want_ to kill him, damn it. Did she dare leave Dafydd alive if she wasn't there to keep an eye on him? No, not now Cooper had remembered. All her fault, stupid nosey cow. Cooper's fault that Detective Evans would have to die as well. So Cooper first, then Evans. If time permits, hunt down anyone else Cooper had blabbed to, and hope to hell it hadn't gone further. With the dawn would come reports of the missing and Suzie Costello would have to be amongst them.

Oh, the benefits of planning. Suzie had dozens of different identities. Torchwood didn't even know about half of them. She'd squirreled them away, just in case, before Toshiko arrived and took over the cover-ups. Each version had its own passport, international driver's license and access to the Swiss bank account which seemed so cloak-and-dagger dramatic when she'd first opened it.

Suzie mourned for effort she'd put in with Max, though. A brilliant plan that would never come to fruition now, with the added annoyance of having to make contact at least every three months for the rest of her life. Bugger. She'd have to be careful to make the calls untraceable, not that Max would remember them. Not consciously anyway. She'd planned for that, as well. No one need ever know where she'd gone, who she'd become.

Would Torchwood even try to find her? Suzie reviewed the events of the night and thought it quite likely Jack would believe Suzie to be a victim of the Slasher's final campaign. Damn, she was good. Suzie would've patted herself on the back - if she could reach - for the way she'd set tonight up. The team knew she'd been planning to meet the detective involved in the murders. That she'd been concerned for his safety. And Owen would remember her call. Suzie's mouth twitched into a twisted smile at Owen's sarcasm as he hung up on her. He'd blame himself for sending her back instead of inviting her to join them. So would Jack.

When they pulled Detective Evans out of the Bay, Jack would assume Suzie had died with him. Her body would never be found, but not everything that went into the Bay came back out. Torchwood played on that all the time, so they wouldn't be suspicious, especially given the burden of guilt she'd leave behind. Suzie hoped they didn't grieve for her too much. Especially not enough to try to track down her killer.

Constable Cooper was moving again. Suzie circled the water tower, edging closer towards the doomed woman. She could do this. Knife, Hub, Glove. Clean up. Cooper, Evans, _dear God how many others?_ How many others had Cooper doomed by not keeping her mouth shut? Suzie could picture it in her mind, the tendrils of rumor spreading through Cardiff, whispering her name. Her fingers twitched with the need to hack off every last twig, but there wasn't time. She only had tonight.

Suzie stepped closer. Still in the shadows, she could see Cooper peering back at her, squinting at the dark shape moving amongst the other shadows at the foot of the water tower. It'd been easier last time, plunging the knife into the boy's back, not having to see his face. She wouldn't be able to take Cooper from behind, but she didn't want to have to look at her face either. Suzie didn't take any joy in the pain of her victims. She'd only made the deaths violent because that's what worked best for the glove. All for the glove.

But she _could _do this. She would. She had to. She had to get through tonight, and start again, somewhere else. She could live without Torchwood. _Oh God, how she'd miss it._ It wasn't a job, it was a life. Her life. No, her old life. She'd have to make a new one. Alone. But a new life, that couldn't be a bad thing, surely? Life was all. _Her_ life was all.

-XXX-

Jack paced his office. Got halfway down the ladder, climbed out again. He wasn't tired. Maybe he should've gone prowling with Owen, after all. Why had he bothered stopping? Denying himself hadn't set Owen back on the straight path anyway.

_It hadn't done Jack any good with Ianto, either._

Jack slumped over his desk and groaned into his hands at the treacherous thought. Why couldn't he get his mind off Ianto? It was ridiculous. They'd had a fling and it was over. It hadn't even been a messy ending, so what was his problem? It was never meant to be more than a bit of fun, a distraction for both of them. It was never supposed to last, and it hadn't. OK, he hadn't gotten to the point of wanting to end it himself, but wasn't that a good thing? It spared him the 'getting too clingy' stage that always made Jack feel claustrophobic. Spared him the tears and accusations and pleas for another chance that were so awkward, if flattering.

Jack raised his head hopefully. He was used to being the one who decided the fling was over. Maybe that's all it was. Protests from a bruised ego. Yeah, that was it, he assured himself. Not a wound to the heart, never that, just a blow to the pride. A stinging injury, admittedly, but nothing to warrant all this soul-searching. He should find a way to salve the wounds in his pride and move past the mess they'd gotten into. Restore the professional relationship. Clear the air with Ianto, if that's what it took. The boy was good at his job, and they worked well together. It'd probably be even easier without personal stuff in the way. It _was _better that it was over.

Salve his pride. Move on. Easy. Taking Owen up on his offer would probably serve for both. Yeah, he'd find Owen and have a bit of fun, just this once. He didn't have to make it a regular occurrence, after all.

Jack booted up his terminal and accessed the CCTV, feeling the customary grin crawling back onto his face. He could just_ call_ Owen, but that wasn't as much fun as sweeping in unannounced. Besides, he didn't want to interrupt anything.

CCTV was sluggish tonight. He'd get Tosh to have a look at it tomorrow.

The CCTV opened onto Jack's default view of the Plass, the spot that would one day hold the blue box which haunted his dreams. Jack reached for the keyboard; his mind running through likely locations to begin the search for Owen, but his fingers froze in mid-air.

All thoughts of tracking Owen down fled. Ianto's voice sounded in Jack's mind, chanting _She's baaaaack, _just as he had in the boardroom the last time that annoyingly familiar figure appeared on the Plass.

Gwen Cooper.

Jack sighed. Had she achieved full recall yet, or was she still at that nagging 'why is this important' stage? And could he find out without triggering the rest of her memory? Jack watched the woman's movements intently. She paused at the water tower, staring up into the rippling waves. That was a good sign. If Gwen was fixated on the water tower she obviously hadn't remembered everything, at least not yet. Jack was tempted by the notion of using the lift to stage a dramatic appearance, but that would be premature. Possibly even immature, but there wasn't much point trying to act his age, was there?

Watch, Jack decided. Watch and wait. If Gwen showed signs of continuing recall, he could grab her and shove her in a cell overnight. One of the more comfortable sort, he supposed, however tempting the one next to Janet felt right now. Tomorrow, he'd check with Owen on the ramifications of a second dose of Retcon. No point interrupting the medic's night out. At least one of them ought to have some fun tonight.

Jack settled back in his chair, eyes fixed on the figure that dominated the CCTV, willing her to turn and walk away, back into a normal life.

-XXX-

"That's it." Tosh announced. "That's the last one." She leaned back, straightening for the first time in hours, grimacing at the popping sounds coming from her spine.

Ianto fed the last string of data into the program on the laptop and watched impatiently.

"Nothing's happening," he fretted, only moments later.

Lisa huffed in exasperation. "Give it time, Ianto."

"The program takes eight minutes to run, Ianto," Tosh said gently, resisting the impulse to glare at Lisa. "And it's only been three. As Lisa said, give it time." Tosh rubbed a weary hand over her eyes and glanced at her watch. "I didn't realize how long that took."

"And Jack's still in his office," Ianto noted, checking the CCTV again. "His office, damn it, not his room. Not much chance of sneaking you out."

Tosh's eyes widened. "Still? It's after 2am!"

"Guess you're stuck with us for the rest of the night," Lisa said.

Tosh's eyebrows rose. Lisa rarely bothered with pointless conversation anymore. But she supposed it didn't really matter that Jack was still in his office, either. They were all spouting trivialities, just to fill the silence, to fill the time while the program ran.

Tosh shrugged and continued time-filling. It was better than considering the abyss that waited if the program gave the wrong results.

"I knew it might take all night. No big deal." She didn't have to ask about Ianto. He was always ready to grasp the opportunity of a night with Lisa. He had spare clothes stashed all over the Hub.

"You left some toiletries here, I think," Ianto said helpfully.

Tosh nodded. She'd never bothered to retrieve her supplies from the shelf of the tiny basement vanity, the leftovers from the time when Lisa was never alone overnight. Before Tosh had tuned to the respirator to the point where it was reliable. Before Lisa stopped wanting company. Before Ianto began to care too much about Jack to use him anymore. Bizarre to consider those were now 'the good old days'.

"And I've got spare clothes in my locker," Tosh added. Everyone had a least one change of clothes somewhere in the Hub. Alien wrangling frequently involved being covered in substances you really didn't want to wear for the rest of the workday.

The minutes continued to drag. Ianto watched the laptop intently, eyes flicking from the slowly moving status bar to the CCTV window, on which Jack stared intently at the screen of his own terminal. Loading up…..oh hell.

"Jack's logging into the CCTV," Ianto yelped. "Should I shut ours down?"

"No, don't!" Tosh grabbed Ianto's hands before they could make contact with the mouse. "It'll only make it worse," she explained hurriedly. "Tomorrow Jack will complain about how long it took him to log in, and I'll give it an hour or so before I tell him it's fixed. No reason for him to suspect anything as long as we don't do this again. But if we log out now he's sure to notice the fluctuation. Let's not do anything to make him curious."

Ianto nodded. Tosh released his hands and he sagged back into the chair, managing to stay still for nearly a whole minute before leaning forward to check the progress bar again. "Two more minutes," he reported. Ianto's eyes drifted back to the image of Jack, back straight, eyes locked on the screen before him.

Who was he watching? Ianto wondered idly. Was there someone on Jack's screen doing the same as them, scrutinizing some other unsuspecting person? Ianto let his mind float, envisioning an endless parade of silent observers, one after another into infinity, linked in a chain of surveillance, all of them violating someone else's privacy.

The laptop chimed. "It's done!" Tosh announced.

Ianto snapped out of his daze as his chair rolled away from the laptop in obedience to Tosh's impatient shove.

"Tell me?" he pleaded.

"Tell_ us_," Lisa correct, a hint of ice in her tone.

Ianto rolled the rest of the way to Lisa's side and stretched out a hand, threading his fingers around Lisa's cold digits. "Tell us," he agreed.

Tosh tried not to smile too broadly. She didn't want to offer false hope.

"There were a few discrepancies," she said blandly. "And a few factors he didn't take into account."

Ianto eyed her uncertainly. "That's good, right?"

Tosh let the smile have its way. "It's not bad," she agreed.

The sun rose in Ianto's eyes. He flung himself out of his chair, kissed Lisa all over her face and turned back to seize Tosh in a rib-cracking hug that took the wind out of her in more ways than one. Tosh's eyes filled and she buried her face in Ianto's shoulder so he wouldn't see how strongly she reacted to the spontaneous gesture of affection.

Lisa reined in her impatience. It might raise suspicions if she didn't seem to understand the need for celebration, so she let the emotional venting run its course for a full thirty seconds before breaking in. "Some details would be nice," she suggested. "With the angle the screen's on at the moment I can't see it well enough to make the words out for myself."

Tosh broke free of Ianto's arms. "Oh Lisa, I'm sorry," she said, swallowing against another wave of guilt. It hadn't occurred to her to connect Lisa's view-screen to the laptop. And here she was feeling superior to Dr Tanizaki for not factoring Lisa's assistance into his equations. Still, it was easily corrected.

"Oh, I see," Lisa said, moments later. "It's _me_ that he didn't take into account."

Ianto's eyes darted between the two women. Tosh hurried to explain.

"The program detected some variations in the settings," she told Ianto. "Obviously having the exact data will help him, but on its own that won't be enough to make a difference. The most important factor, though, is power supply. He didn't take into account that Lisa can channel the power within the converter for maximum effect during the separation process."

"What she means," Lisa said coldly, "Is that he didn't take into account that I'm sentient."

Ianto squeezed her hand. "He hasn't met you yet, Lisa. He doesn't know you beyond numbers on a screen. It'll be different once he gets here. Don't you think so, Tosh?"

Tosh nodded, but a shiver ran through her at the expression on Lisa's face just at that moment. Nothing like the joy and relief that lit Ianto's weary eyes. It was….it looked like contempt. Then Ianto turned back to his girlfriend and Lisa's face – changed. The eyes that had held an almost metallic gleam softened, the tight thin lips melted into a smile. Tosh rubbed her tired eyes. She must have imagined it.

"We can divert power from the main Hub, too, if it's needed," she added.

"As long as we get everyone out," Ianto put in. The smile on his face more than made up for Lisa's momentary chill, imaginary or otherwise. "And we're good at that."

"Anyway," Tosh concluded. "I think it'll make a difference in the simulations. Enough of a difference to make it worth his while to come over, at least."

She turned back to the laptop. "I'll send him our findings," she suggested. "There, done. Now we can relax."

Ianto looked doubtfully around the small room. "I still wish we could've gotten you home tonight."

Tosh shrugged. "I'll cope." She began closing down the laptop.

"You might not have to," Lisa commented, just before her viewer went blank. "Jack was moving."

Ianto jumped to his feet and nudged Tosh aside until he could see the tiny CCTV window. Tosh found herself fighting back a giggle at what struck her as a gesture of possessiveness. It wasn't really funny, anyway. Tragic, if anything. It'd be a relief to forget it all.

Tosh's mind froze, and then thawed as acceptance finally settled through her. She wouldn't fight it anymore. Retcon beckoned, and it wasn't the enemy. Once Ianto and Lisa were safely away, Tosh would be glad to forget all about this particular tragedy. Especially now that she was satisfied with the recording embedded in her laptop at home. Ianto's mellow voice would whisper to her while the Retcon took hold, filling all the gaps with the cover story they'd worked on until it was perfect. She'd forget Lisa, but she'd remember Ianto. They'd been able to retain many good memories, giving each a different connection. Tosh would even been able to give the rest of the team a satisfactory explanation for Ianto fleeing. One that Jack wouldn't like very much, but it should stop him trying to track Ianto down.

"Jack's in a hurry," Ianto commented. "Looks like he's headed for the lift. Once he's clear we can get you out through the tourist office."

Tosh shut down the laptop, killing the image of Jack running across the Hub. "Wonder what he's after?" she mused.

Ianto took the laptop from her arms and shrugged. "Could be anything," he muttered. "Or anyone."

Tosh hoped Lisa didn't pick up on the tinge of jealousy that colored Ianto's tone.

"Come on, Toshiko," Ianto urged from the doorway. "Let's get you out of here before he changes his mind."

Lisa sighed as the door closed behind them, mercifully silencing the echoes of hurried goodbyes.

_Peace. I suppose it's too much to hope that Ianto goes home, too. He's terribly tiring like this. He'll be much more efficient after his upgrade._

_I know enough about Tanizaki now. I was right, he'll be a liability. He doesn't appreciate the glory of steel. His equations dismissed me completely. I'm just 'the subject' to him. It's the converter he wants. And he'll get it. All of it. Intimately. Then he'll understand._

_If he survives._

-XXX-

Gwen's face looked so innocent, Jack mused. He'd been right to make her forget Torchwood. Gwen had a normal life, that simple, elusive commodity the rest of the team would give anything for.

She was so different from the rest of them. So alive, so bright, so _whole_. She wasn't lost or broken, not yet. Gwen didn't need Torchwood to give her life meaning. Unlike Toshiko, giving herself to Torchwood in redemption for her crime, or Owen, trying to save humanity in place of the one he couldn't save. Or Ianto, too young for all of this crap, who should be out in suburbia with that girlfriend the Cybermen killed, but who'd seen too much, lost too much. Jack still wasn't quite sure what Ianto wanted from Torchwood. Maybe doing his bit to 'arm the human race' was Ianto's way of hitting back at the Cybermen.

Even Jack himself, the lost one, letting Torchwood lend a sense of purpose to the endless waiting for a blue box that might never appear, for a Doctor that might not be able to heal.

Jack wasn't sure what Torchwood gave Suzie. There was something, something dark, but she didn't talk about it, and Jack had enough secrets of his own to respect that. She'd grown up in the dirt, though, he knew that much. Perhaps Suzie saw Torchwood as her chance to reach past the grime and touch the stars.

But what the hell was she doing out on the Plass?

-XXX-

Suzie stepped out of the shadows, slowly, gracefully, watching Gwen's eyes widen. With shock? Fear? Or was it…confusion? No. She'd remembered. She wouldn't be here if she hadn't remembered.

When all else fails, fall back on the plan. Use the knife, get the glove. Suzie fumbled for the knife. It felt heavy, clumsy. But it _would_ trigger the rest of the memories. Then what she had to do would be self-defense and it wouldn't matter if she didn't risk the trip down for the glove.

"They got a good likeness," Suzie commented, brandishing the knife. It looked smaller, somehow, and yet it felt heaver than it ever had before. A good likeness, that sketch. Dafydd got a good likeness. Dafydd, who might have been Suzie's future, but they had no future now, either of them, all because of this woman. Her fault. All her fault. She deserved to be punished, didn't she?

"How do I know you?" Gwen asked. More confusion. Only confusion. She hadn't remembered yet. It was all falling apart. And it was such a waste. Cooper hadn't remembered. But she would, soon. She'd seen Suzie again, with the knife. She'd remember it all. Any minute now. She had to. She had to remember, then this wouldn't be murder. _Why hadn't the stupid woman just stayed at home?_

All of tonight's plans crashed around Suzie's ears with a roar that brought tears to her eyes. Thinking on your feet was overrated. Far below, gears rumbled. Was nothing going to go the way it should? The Hub was supposed to be empty. Jack was out with Owen, wasn't he? Wasn't that what Owen said?

Actually, he hadn't actually said Jack's name. She should have made sure. Another mistake. Too late to fix it now.

Jack was coming up in the lift. Jack mustn't know she'd taken the knife. He wouldn't let her get close enough to use the knife, anyway.

All that was left was to escape. Leave no witnesses and escape.

Her gun felt better in her hand than the knife. But Suzie could feel herself shaking, and it wasn't just from the ground trembling beneath her feet as the lift made its way to the surface. Tears poured from her eyes while babble poured from her mouth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gwen whimpered.

She hadn't remembered. She really hadn't. Suzie wished she could forget, too. Forget tonight, at least. Forget she'd ever seen the bloody sketch.

Gwen didn't understand. Gwen didn't remember.

More tears. More babble.

And Jack. On the lift. Watching. Listening. Frowning as though she was a naughty child.

Arrogant bastard. Did he really think Suzie didn't know what the lift sounded like? Did he really think she couldn't see him?

His mistake.

The echoes of the shot bounded deafeningly around the Plass. Good thing there was no-one to hear.

She'd always been a good shot. It was a very neat bullet wound. Jack crumpled with a bleeding hole right in the middle of his forehead. Suzie liked precision.

Cooper was crying, begging, pleading for her life. Cowardly copper Cooper.

It ought to be easy to kill Cooper. She'd just killed Jack. Jack, her friend. Jack, her mentor. Jack, the father figure who insisted on behaving like a father should.

_Oh dear God, she'd killed Jack._

She really was a murderer then. What was one more?

* * *

**Apologies if the ending is a bit cliff-like, but you know what's going to happen anyway (assuming you've watched the first episode of Torchwood, which you must have, right?) **

Err, sorry about the babble, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, in case that isn't obvious. Hope you liked it anyway.


	36. Chapter 36

**Short chapter, but I hope you'll understand why I've ended it where I have. This really should have been at the end of the previous chapter, but it wasn't good enough to show you back then! **

_Warning: Character death this chapter. Not graphic. _

* * *

Tosh could almost feel Jack's presence weighing down the roof above their heads as they entered the main Hub. She moved with care, somehow convinced that the slightest noise would bring him flying down to investigate, most likely breathing fire and brimstone. Irrational, perhaps, but overwhelming nonetheless.

Ianto seemed completely unaffected. Tosh supposed he was used to being alone here, but it didn't stop her wincing as his footsteps rang on the grating.

Myfanwy's sleepy cawing at the unexpected intrusion in her domain made Tosh jump. When Ianto paused to call reassurances to the leathery avian, Tosh wanted to clap a hand over his mouth, even though she knew the sound of his voice would soothe their winged guard-dog back into sleep.

Ianto grinned at her obvious discomfort as he deposited Tosh's laptop on her desk. "We just saw him leave, Toshiko. No-one's home except Myfanwy." He tipped his head back and called again, crooning in Welsh this time. Myfanwy acknowledged him with a sound so like a chirp that Tosh would have giggled if she wasn't holding her breath. She wondered who would speak Welsh to their prehistoric sentinel after Ianto fled with Lisa.

Ianto tilted his head, eyes bright, and Tosh strained her ears to catch whatever it was that he was listening for so intently. Ianto met her eyes and smiled again. "It's what I can't hear," he explained. "The lift's stopped. Give Jack a couple of minutes to get clear and you'll be fine to go."

Tosh stowed her laptop under her desk instead of on it. "Jack might have noticed my desk was empty," she explained nervously.

"Of course," Ianto agreed, smiling a crooked smile. "Because Jack's very observant."

Tosh laughed at herself, finally beginning to relax. "All right, I'm paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if they're really after you!" Ianto quoted, from somewhere Tosh couldn't remember.

The echo of a gunshot cut through whatever reply Tosh might have made. Her concerns about noise level vanished beneath a surge of adrenaline as she leaped towards Jack's office. They had to know what was happening if they were going to be of any help, and given the speed at which he'd departed, Jack probably hadn't shut down the CCTV. Tosh expected Ianto to follow her, and was mildly surprised when he bolted the other way.

"Ianto. Stop!" Tosh yelled over the sound of the cog alarm.

Ianto froze at the unexpected note of command in his friend's voice. He turned his head – just his head. "But Tosh," he said with what was indisputably pleading in his voice. "That was a gunshot. He…" Ianto broke off, cleared his throat. "Someone might have been hurt. We have to help."

"And we will," Tosh promised. "After we know what's going on. We'd only make things worse blundering in unprepared."

Ianto nodded slowly, and made his way back. She was right, of course. His brain acknowledged the sense of her argument but his feet dragged, under the influence of whatever it was that made him long to be out there, fighting at Jack's side.

-XXX-

I _am_ a murderer, Suzie thought dazedly. I killed him. I killed Jack. With my gun, not the knife. And I don't want to bring him back. I really am a murderer.

Constable Cooper cried and pleaded. She wasn't bluffing. She didn't remember. Suzie felt sorry for her, not that she could allow it to make a difference. But if Cooper hadn't remembered, this was all for nothing.

_I killed Jack for nothing. I could have just let the stupid woman go._

The gun felt so heavy. Far heavier than the knife ever had. This was taking too long, getting too hard. If she didn't do it now, she wouldn't do it at all. Suzie forced her fingers to wrap around the trigger. She _had_ to do this. She couldn't leave the policewoman alive. Even if Gwen – no, Cooper - never remembered the rest of it, she'd heard Suzie confess, seen her kill Jack.

Jack was dead. What did one insignificant PC matter? One more kill. Just one.

_I'm a murderer already. Isn't it supposed to get easier after the first?_

-XXX-

Ianto's reluctant nod was all Tosh needed to turn her focus back to the CCTV, where she noted with frustration that Jack had finally taken heed of her pleas to apply a password to his screensaver. It didn't take long to crack it, but each second was precious, so Tosh couldn't waste time pondering why 'Myfanwy' was significant. Maybe later.

"We're in," Tosh yelled, only to find that Ianto already at her shoulder. A whimper crept from his throat as the CCTV focused, a whimper matched by the snarl that rose from her own.

Jack was dead. He had to be dead. A bullet hole in that precise spot didn't allow much room for survival.

Tosh reached out blindly and huddled with Ianto on Jack's big chair, clinging together until the shaking ceased. Eyes dry, both of them. Shock couldn't be avoided, but grief would have to wait.

"Who?" Ianto asked, the quiver in his voice firming into iron.

"We'll find out," Tosh said with quiet determination. "And they'll pay."

-XXX-

Just one more, Suzie told herself, pleaded with herself, ordered herself. Do it, then run. But Suzie didn't _want_ to run. She didn't want to leave Torchwood.

Thoughts scurried around in her head. Rats in a cage, clawing their way out of her skull. Broken birds, flapping against the windows of her soul. Too fast to catch, too fast to free.

Stop. Think. Could she cover up by using the knife? No, the knife was for resurrection only. The knife was the tool of resurrection, bequeathed to her, waking only for her. She couldn't profane it.

Suzie regarded Jack's slumped body with regret, then shifted her gaze back to the policewoman. No wonder Jack had decided to Retcon this one, instead of recruiting her. Torchwood didn't blubber in face of death.

_Look at her, blubbering, covering her eyes. If I can't see the monster, it can't see me. She wouldn't last a day in Torchwood._

How long had she been standing here, clutching her gun, watching someone shatter and doing nothing to stop it? A minute, an hour, a lifetime?

Maybe she could make it look as though they'd killed each other? No, not that either. There was a bullet from Suzie's gun in Jack's head; there'd be a bullet from her gun in Cooper as well. Well, there would be if she could just get her stiff fingers to pull the bloody trigger.

What if she left the gun behind? Hope blazed. Jack was dead already. Kill the other, then knock herself out. Leave the gun in Cooper's hand. Or Jack's. Jack's would be better. The police hated Jack. They'd believe anything of him. Suzie could weep on Owen's shoulder while he treated the wound on her head she'd make with the butt of the gun. She'd have to do something about fingerprints. After. Tidy up after. Suzie was good at cover stories.

Just do it. Suzie wished the stupid woman would stop crying. It was only making it harder on both of them. Suzie didn't want to do this. Didn't want to. But she had to. Had to. Had to cover up. Had to save herself.

A voice intruded, slicing through the maelstrom in her head. A voice Suzie knew. The ultimate voice of authority, and it was ordering her to put the gun down. But it wasn't possible. She hadn't used the glove. Must be the voice of her conscience. Suzie would've laughed except that would make her a maniac as well as a murderer. Her conscience sounded just like Jack.

-XXX-

Tosh and Ianto hadn't broken their huddle. They clung to each other like children hiding from monsters. And yet they saw monsters every day.

"He's…He's…."

"Alive," Tosh finished in wonder. She ordered her body to work again, and her hands responded, even if they shook as she manipulated the CCTV camera.

"Suzie," Ianto breathed, reviving enough to untangle himself from Tosh. "It was Suzie. She killed him, and then she must have used that bloody glove on him. The bitch. How dare she?"

Ianto got to his feet, fury countering the pain as feeling returned to his legs. "We have to help, Tosh. We _have_ to. We have to stop her. Doesn't matter than he knows we're here. He's only got….." Ianto's voice broke, firmed. "He's only got two minutes."

An obscure pain shot through Tosh as she took in the ravaged features of her friend's face. The last time she'd seen Ianto look like this was before they had Lisa's meds sorted. When he'd sat by helplessly as Lisa writhed in pain, holding back despair so he could act instead. He looked exactly the same now.

Ianto loved Jack. What a God-awful mess.

-XXX-

Suzie turned, and thought maybe she should have let that laugh out anyway, because she _had_ gone mad. Torchwood had finally driven her mad, because Jack was standing up, and the bullet wound was shrinking, closing, like a film running in reverse.

It _was _Jack. Jack, who she'd just killed. He was offering her a hand. _May I have this dance?_ But Jack was dead. If she took his hand, the only place he could lead her was straight into hell. Wasn't much likelihood that either of them was going the other way, was there? Sod that, then. If Suzie was going to hell, she was doing it her way.

Cooper's eyes were bugging out of her head, though. She could see him, too. So Jack wasn't a ghost, returning for vengeance. He was alive.

-XXX-

Tosh's hand settled firmly on Ianto's shoulder. She didn't know what the hell was going on, but she knew what _wasn't_. Her voice shook in spite of her efforts

"Suzie didn't use the glove on Jack."

Ianto's shoulder twitched beneath her hand. He'd throw her off any second.

"She must have, Tosh," Ianto answered, impatience thrumming through his voice. He shook off the restraining hand and moved for the door.

"Forget whatever you think you knew about her," Ianto called back over his shoulder, and just from his voice Tosh learned how hate sounded. Ianto loved Jack. Ianto hated Suzie.

"She killed Jack," Ianto continued. "And now she's revived him. Like she did all the others."

Tosh rose numbly to her feet. Oh God, this just got worse. _Like all the others._

Ianto froze at the door. Turned, his whole body this time, not just his head. Tosh got the hazy impression that the doorframe was all that held him upright as he swayed beneath the weight of the same realization.

"Tosh, do you think she killed the others, too?"

"All those people," Tosh whispered.

"Three people," Ianto corrected.

A tiny spear of irritation at the correction shook Tosh out of whatever trance held her motionless.

"She might have," Tosh agreed. "No, she must have." Something broke deep inside Tosh, a core of faith she hadn't known she still clung to, until now, as she felt it tearing. Torchwood did some strange things, questionable things, but they weren't evil. Torchwood wasn't evil. Until now.

Tosh blinked, shook her head, pulled her thoughts back into focus. Discarded speculation and returned to fact. "But she didn't use the glove on Jack."

Ianto followed the wavering path of Tosh's hand as it swung upwards, finger pointing towards….

"Because the glove's right here, Ianto."

-XXX-

Jack had resurrected. Without the glove. He was standing before her, hand still extended, telling Suzie to come with him. Come with him – where? Not to hell, not if he was alive. Though life was a kind of hell. This life was, anyway. Suzie's life was hell, always had been.

Jack was right, though. It was over, whether Suzie killed the quivering Cooper or not. Jack must have heard Suzie babbling to Cooper. Confessing, like the master criminal in a B-grade movie. Pathetic. Should have kept her mouth shut. Only it was such a relief to say it, finally, and she'd been so sure Cooper wouldn't be around to tell anyone. So sure she'd be able to pull that trigger. And Suzie still didn't understand why she hadn't, why she _couldn't_.

Except, she wasn't a murderer, really, was she? Not if Jack was alive. 'Cause the others were all for the glove. They hadn't been murder, any of them. But if Suzie pulled the trigger now, if she killed Cooper, that _would_ be murder.

Cooper's pleas echoed in her ears, the soundtrack to the plea in Jack's eyes.

Jack had always looked out for her. Look at him now, coming back to life just to save Suzie from being a murderer. Giving her one last chance to save herself, to save her soul.

She was pointing the gun at the wrong woman.

-XXX-

Ianto ran for the cog. Jack was alive. Ianto didn't understand_ how_, and he didn't care. It wasn't even important, not right at his moment. Jack was alive, and he was in danger. He was in danger and he needed help. That was all that counted right now. Speculation could wait. There was no time to waste in debating the impossible. Impossible happened, just like shit. Torchwood saw it every day.

"We haven't got time to work out how it happened, Toshiko," Ianto yelled back over his shoulder, when his ears registered the lack of footsteps pounding after him. "Jack's out there with someone who's already killed him once. She'll try again while you're contemplating infinity, and maybe this time it'll stick."

He had a point. Tosh unfolded her legs and rose to follow.

-XXX-

A sense of peace sifted through the tears in Suzie's battered soul. She wasn't a murderer, but the rest of the world wouldn't see it that way, narrow minded fools. Jack would have to imprison her, at the very least. In the cells with Janet, if she was lucky. Unit, otherwise. No bloody way. Toshiko had been in a Unit prison. Suzie would rather die than end up like Toshiko.

Which was an option, of course. The final option, for most. Not so final for Suzie Costello, the master of long range planning. Death wouldn't be so bad. It wouldn't last as long as prison anyway.

One last chance. One last plan. All that work with Max would come in useful far sooner than she'd expected. Far sooner than she'd wanted, but what the hell. Better than prison.

How to do it? Didn't want to make too much of a mess. Jack had healed nicely, but the glove didn't work like that. The wounds would remain, so she'd have to be sure they didn't hamper her movement. Not a neck shot, then. And it had to do the job fast, or Jack would make Owen save her. Couldn't have that! Which ruled out a gut shot, too. Leaving only….

Suzie raised the gun again, getting it into place before Jack registered what she was doing.

The muzzle of the pistol was cold beneath her chin, but it'd be warm soon enough. Yeah, this way. Straight through. Nice and quick. And it might be vanity, but Suzie didn't want to ruin her face.

* * *

**I'll miss Suzie! Hope I did her justice. But she'll be back. **

**Have vast chunks of the next chapter in progress, so will try not to keep you waiting too long. Thanks so much for reading.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Hello again. Suzie's gone, on with the aftermath. **

**I really think that has to be a lot more to it than what we saw on the screen, so I hope no-one's expecting Day One to start anytime soon! **

* * *

Tosh had barely made it through the door to Jack's office when another shot echoed through the Hub, oddly, in stereo. Muffled and echoing from outside, short and sharp from the still-open CCTV behind her. Tosh froze momentarily, the impulse to follow Ianto and _do_ something warring with her deep-seated sense of caution. They had no idea what they'd be running into, and a quick look back at the CCTV would fix that. The twin impulses kept her swaying in the doorway for a timeless instant, but the need to _know_ won out, so she backtracked and slid into Jack's chair again.

"Ianto," Tosh yelled, or tried to. The sound came out as a whisper, a whimper, a plea. The tableau on the screen sent a scream as far as her lips, where it struggled against a sob of relief. Apparently there wasn't room for both to escape, because she stayed silent, staring at the screen as though her disbelieving gaze had the power to alter the display. Jack was still alive, and Tosh clamped down on the voice within her mind that continued to shriek that he couldn't be. Jack was alive and Suzie wasn't. Suzie was lying sprawled on the Plass with her gun still in her hand and a deep red scarf lying across her throat and flowing down into the stones. Only it wasn't a scarf, was it? That was just a clever illusion Tosh's overwrought mind was trying to let her see. Her very own perception filter. Tosh rubbed her tired eyes and looked again. It wasn't a scarf.

They'd have to get those stains out of the stone. Cardiff council wouldn't be impressed.

Suzie was dead. Jack was alive. Again. Alive and uninjured. Moving. Talking. Talking to the woman on the ground. Tosh could see his lips moving but the microphones weren't picking up his words.

That was annoying. Tosh would have loved to hear what he'd found to say to the woman currently curled into foetal position, shaking visibly against the steadying arm Jack wrapped around her shoulder. What was her name, the one from the other day? The woman he'd Retconned? Copper? _A_ copper, no Cooper. Gwen Cooper. Constable with the Cardiff police. Tosh wished she knew how Jack was explaining this, because she could use an explanation herself.

It occurred to Tosh that her mind really shouldn't be working this clearly. It's the fight-or-flight reaction kicking in, she reasoned, reveling in the clinical detachment which was probably only temporary. Within her, nature's inbuilt defense mechanism stirred, riding an intense surge of adrenaline which allowed the injured to flee, the threatened to escape. And gave the terminally confused a window of clarity in which to think.

"Tosh, hurry up," Ianto called. The cog was open. He was standing just inside it, an arm across the door to prevent it rolling shut again. As though he was holding an elevator, Tosh thought, fighting a totally inappropriate urge to laugh. Another effect of shock, she supposed.

"I'm coming," she yelled back. "Just give me a minute."

Tosh was glad she wasn't close enough to hear exactly what Ianto said in reply. She could tell from the tone it wasn't good. He was angry, possibly panicking, but Tosh knew what he needed to hear, so she let it out before her sense of discretion could censor it.

"Jack's OK," she called, turning back to the CCTV so Ianto wouldn't later be mortified she'd seen his relief. "He didn't get shot again, and he didn't shoot anyone."

It might have been partly wishful thinking, but Tosh wanted to believe Jack hadn't killed Suzie. Tosh _had_ to believe it, because she couldn't accept that Jack was sadistic enough to make that shot, right up under the chin, where he'd have to look straight into Suzie's eyes. Jack wouldn't do that, not when he could have been equally effective from further away. Especially not given how the position would make it easier for Suzie to wrestle the gun from him and shoot him - again

Jack appeared to be impervious to bullets, though, so maybe the risk didn't bother him that much. Tosh inhaled deeply, once more fighting the impulse to laugh at how calmly she was processing it all. The cushioning effects would wear off soon, though, and Tosh was determined to use this brief interval of shock-induced clarity to keep herself and Ianto – and Lisa - safe from the repercussions of the events on the Plass tonight.

So she kept Ianto waiting a moment longer while she switched Jack's CCTV back to its default view and made sure the screen locked. Should have done that already, Tosh chided herself. It was all the more important now that Jack never discovered the Hub hadn't been empty tonight. He'd be on the alert, after this. After one of his team….went mad? Is that what had happened to Suzie?

If something _had_ driven Suzie mad, Tosh knew what to blame. The glove. That _damned _glove.

Perhaps Ianto's impatience was infectious; perhaps Tosh had developed some of her own. It didn't seem to matter either way, as they blundered their way out through the tourism office in the dark, too impatient to find the light switches.

Ianto didn't even pause to lock the door behind him. Totally out of character. Tosh watched the departing figure for a bemused moment, then turned back to engage the dead-latch herself. Obviously it would be her responsibility to cover their tracks tonight.

Ianto was out of sight by the time Tosh set off in pursuit, her feet sliding slightly on the damp paving. Really, Ianto was being terribly careless tonight. It would be something in the order of a miracle – another one – if Jack wasn't alerted by the pounding of his footsteps. Oh well, at least the sound gave Tosh something to follow, which meant she could watch where she placed her feet instead. Which in turn meant that Tosh cannoned unexpectedly into Ianto's back as he came to a sudden halt in the shadow of a pillar.

It was amazing that Jack didn't hear the collision either, accompanied as it was by astonished 'oooof' noises and vague apologies as Ianto hauled Tosh upright, all the while without taking his eyes off the scene in front of them. Tosh followed the direction of his gaze and swallowed uncomfortably. The tableau in front of the water tower had changed since her last look at the CCTV. It also explained why Jack hadn't noticed the sounds of their approach. He'd been busy with other things. He still was.

Suzie had vanished, for one thing. Tosh's eyes followed the dark trail that led from where Suzie had crumpled and saw it stop abruptly at…..at the stone that marked the invisible lift.

Tosh pulled her gaze away, knowing from experience that if she stared long enough, her brain would take her eyes past the filter. She didn't want to see what –_ who_ -lay there. Jack must have moved the body. Tosh tugged on Ianto's hand and whispered an explanation. She saw his eyes widen as he took it in, watched his head turn slightly as he too followed the trail of blood with his eyes.

With that second glance, Tosh realized the pool of blood was larger, and her stomach churned as she forced herself to look more closely before once more dragging her eyes away. For a second, she'd thought Suzie might be alive, but she'd seen the pool grow only sluggishly. No evidence in the steady seepage that a heart still beat to urge blood out through the wounds Suzie had inflicted on herself.

But it _did _mean Suzie was still lying there. Tosh had to admit she'd never really been fond of her only female colleague, but it hurt to think that Jack hadn't even sent the stone down into the Hub.

"No prizes for guessing who's cleaning that up tomorrow," Ianto muttered. His voice was strange, soft in volume yet hard in tone. Businesslike, perhaps. A match for the granite-faced butler mask. Understandable, in this instance. He'd need a fair store of detachment, given the prospect of mopping a colleague's lifeblood away from the front of their workplace.

Except that it wasn't the blood which had turned Ianto to stone.

Was he jealous? Tosh wondered, even as her heart twisted in sympathy. Did it burn Ianto inside to see the man he denied loving wrapped around someone else? They were far enough away that Jack and Gwen made a somewhat blurred figure. Only one figure, though. Jack's arms were around the smaller woman, her head tucked beneath his chin, so close and tight that there was no light between them, nothing to mark where one person ended and the other began. Jack's chin moved restlessly across her hair, and the edges of the conjoined figure wavered as his hand traversed the woman's spine, while soothing murmurs echoed across to where Ianto and Tosh stood in the shadows.

"He's seems to have it under control," Ianto said. The Welsh vowels Jack praised sounded clipped and harsh. "Doesn't look like he needs me….us…..after all." The hard voiced faltered, close to shattering - and taking Tosh's heart with it. Tosh inhaled deeply and prayed to the God she still believed in to give her strength enough for both of them tonight.

Across the Plass, the scene changed again. Gwen pulled away, curling into herself on the damp stone. Sobs drifted in bursts across the cold night air, between repetitions of the same, damning phrase. "I remember. _I remember._"

As if things needed to get any worse.

Tosh twined her fingers around Ianto's cold hand and tugged. "We should leave," she suggested.

A shudder ran through his body and into hers via their joined hands.

"They'll be fine," Ianto agreed, still using that hard voice. "Jack's about to apply his favorite remedy for shock, if I'm any judge."

Ianto laughed at his own comment, a low, coarse sound that Tosh could hardly believe him capable of producing. It was so unlike Ianto that for one blazing instant Tosh burned with fury at Jack for doing this to her friend. But she couldn't maintain the anger, not with a tiny, rebellious, possibly reasonable part of her mind reminding her that Ianto had rejected Jack long ago, and still dodged every attempt the older man made to mend the breach between them. The same part of her brain which knew, beyond a doubt, that if Ianto went to Jack now, the quaking, terrified woman who also needed comfort would be forgotten.

Jack mustn't know they were here, anyway. It would be just about the worst thing that could possibly happen, however much Tosh's sentimental side urged her to drag Ianto across the Plass and shove him into Jack's arms. Jack would be grateful now, but their presence here tonight would inevitably raise questions. What had they seen? Why were they here?

Lisa's safety rested on their ability to avoid those questions. But Jack shouldn't have to handle this alone, should he?

Once again, it appeared Tosh had to choose, and it felt harder than ever before. On the crest of a sudden wave of guilt, Tosh accepted that Lisa wasn't the focus of her loyalty anymore. The woman beneath the Hub wasn't the same person Tosh had learned to care for all those months ago. The gentle, loving, frightened woman had become harder, harsher and colder. Maybe that was an inevitable result of the trauma she'd suffered, maybe it was something else that they'd never understand. Regardless, Lisa was different, and if what Tosh faced was really a choice between Jack and Lisa, Tosh knew she'd be running across the Plass to her boss right now.

But helping Jack wouldn't only threaten Lisa; it would destroy Ianto. Jack or Ianto was a much harder choice to make. Yet still Tosh wavered, even with Ianto's hand resting in hers. Jack had saved her from Unit. She owed him, didn't she?

The hand within hers trembled and Tosh's heart quaked in response. She looked up into her friend's impassive face and hurt for him with an intensity of feeling she hadn't been capable of when Jack first brought her to Torchwood.

Jack might have freed her body from prison, but Ianto had restored her soul.

Tosh looked once more at Jack twining his arms around the dark-haired interloper and felt a stab of resentment. She hoped Ianto was wrong about the sort of therapy Jack planned to offer, but it didn't go in his favor that he'd chosen to cuddle with Gwen on the Plass instead of attending to Suzie. The body of his employee, his teammate, his_ friend_, lay unseen and unacknowledged, spilling its secrets into the uncaring stone. Whatever drove Suzie to this madness, she deserved better from the man she'd looked up to for so long.

The resentment stiffened Tosh's resolve. Jack had chosen an outsider over Torchwood. That was where _his _loyalties lay. Fine. It gave the rest of them license to look after each other. Any lingering doubts Tosh harbored over their decision to keep Lisa a secret vanished, along with the remnants of guilt.

Tosh squeezed Ianto's hand. "It's not safe for us to stay," she said, injecting her voice with all the authority she could summon. "With Suzie on the lift, he'll have to come back into the Hub through the office entrance."

"Which will take him right past us," Ianto agreed. His gaze drifted towards the darkened tourism office. "I don't suppose I could…."

Tosh shook her head firmly. "Jack might leave any second, Ianto. Even if you got into the Hub before him, he'd probably hear the cog alarm. He might brush that off any other time, but not tonight."

Ianto nodded. "You're right, of course." He straightened, looked around once more, and then tugged on the hand he still held, leading Tosh around behind the pillar and towards the garage.

Their cars were parked only a few spaces apart. Ianto eyed Tosh uncertainly as she unlocked her door.

"Are you OK to drive?" he asked. Not the stone-face anymore. No butler mask to hide the concern shining out of his eyes. The icy core of shock still residing inside Tosh began to melt. Ianto must surely be just as tired as she was, but he was still trying to look after her.

"I'll manage, Ianto," Tosh answered, surprising herself with the weariness in her voice.

Ianto shifted uneasily. "I could drop you off," he offered.

Tosh rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to force herself to think. Her mind didn't have that bizarre clarity anymore, and she kind of missed it.

"Can't risk leaving your car here," she answered eventually. "Jack's sure to call in some help. He might use the GPS to find out who's closest." Tosh shook her head. "Imagine if he finds your car's been here all night. It could be disastrous."

Ianto wanted to argue, but he well remembered how often Jack used the GPS to check on his team. And on _him, _specifically. Tosh was right again. Jack was bound to be more suspicious of anomalies tonight. He ought to go home.

But home was just a word for an empty flat, more packing boxes now than furniture. And Tosh looked so tired, so frail. He couldn't just leave her. Not yet.

"I'll follow you," Ianto decided. "Make sure you get home all right."

"That doesn't get _you_ home safely," Tosh added pertly. "You're in no better state than I am, Ianto, and don't you dare pretend otherwise."

Ianto's brow furrowed deeply.

Tosh smiled faintly and grasped his hands in her own. "I'm OK at the moment, really. But I _can _feel a meltdown coming on." She managed a somewhat shaky laugh. "And honestly Ianto, I don't think you're far off one either. So, follow me home, if you like, but stay at mine tonight. We can look after each other."

"Again," Ianto chimed in, with a tiny smile.

"Again," Tosh agreed. "And it's silly, I know, but I hate the thought of being alone tonight." Alone, like Suzie on the Plass. Tosh shuddered.

Ianto smiled his crooked smile and pulled her into a brief, reassuring hug. "I don't want to be alone either," he admitted. "Meet you at yours, then."

-XXX-

Jack urged Gwen onto the Torchwood couch and pried her grasping fingers from his arm. Very unlike Jack Harkness, to be peeling a pretty woman's hands off himself. It'd be funny if he wasn't so damned drained.

Gwen looked up at him with wide eyes and hugged herself in an attempt to contain the shivers wracking her body. Jack thought of Suzie, lying cold and alone on the Plass, and told himself firmly that the cold couldn't hurt her anymore. It could, however, hurt Gwen, so Jack scrabbled around Owen's domain until he found the somewhat scratchy blanket Owen kept for his few live patients. It wasn't great, but it was that or a fire blanket. Jack didn't know where Ianto kept the spare bedding, and he didn't want to offer Gwen his own bed.

The reluctance sat strangely in Jack's mind as he draped the coarse wool over Gwen's shoulders. It might be the first time he'd shied away from the idea of an attractive woman in his bed. It wasn't that the idea didn't appeal, Jack told himself. It was the situation. Yeah, maybe she'd been clinging to him as though he was her favorite teddy bear, but Gwen couldn't be thinking straight right now. And she had a boyfriend, didn't she? And there was still the chance they'd have to Retcon her.

Jack piled the excuses up in his mind until he convinced himself. The only reason he was thinking about Ianto now was because if the efficient young Welshman was here, Gwen would already be wrapped in proper blankets and eating or drinking whatever was best for shock.

And if Ianto was here, Suzie would be decently laid out in her designated drawer, instead of lying on the invisible lift where Jack had quite deliberately arranged her body to ensure her blood would cover the splatters of his own.

Jack didn't even know which drawers were free anymore. He'd left all that to Ianto.

And someone would have to clean the gore off the Plass before it got reported to the police. How they'd achieve that, Jack didn't have the faintest idea. But if anyone could get blood out of a stone, it'd be Ianto. Ha Ha. Good one. He'd have to remember to say that when he gave Ianto the order to clean it.

Ianto. Ianto. Ianto. Damn the man, he'd made himself indispensable.

Jack shook his head at himself, trudged into the kitchen to get Gwen the cup of tea she was pleading for, and averted his eyes from the coffee machine. He didn't need a coffee. OK, maybe he did, but he was quite capable of making it for himself.

It would just taste like shit. Jack didn't want to dwell on how he knew that. Sufficient to recall he'd eaten a lot of things in his long life, and only found out what they were later. Death by starvation tended make you far less fussy about what you put into your mouth.

Gwen whimpered. Jack stirred in some sugar, which he was pretty sure you were supposed to do for shock, and carried it out.

"Here's your tea," Jack said awkwardly, pushing the mug into Gwen's hand and wishing she'd stop looking at him as though his face held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. Any other time, having a woman – or a man - or a many-tenatacled being of dubious gender, for that matter– look at him like that would stroke Jack's ego to fever pitch, but right now he had too much else to do.

Gwen's gaze changed slightly as she cradled the mug. "Have you put more of that amnesia drug in this?" she demanded.

Gwen was clever. Suzie had said that, too. Suzie was good at reading people. At least, she used to be.

"No," Jack answered shortly.

Gwen eyed him suspiciously. "Why should I believe you?"

Jack actually managed a laugh. "You shouldn't," he admitted. "I'd have thrown some in if I could've, and lied about it if you asked. But in this instance, I'm not sure it's safe to give you another dose, so I haven't. You can believe me, or go thirsty. Take your pick."

Gwen's eyes switched from his to the mug and back again. "I don't think I care, anyway," she announced. "I wouldn't mind forgetting tonight." And she raised the cup to her lips and took a deep swallow.

Feisty, Jack thought, smiling. She'd be asleep soon. He wasn't lying about the Retcon this time, but he _had_ slipped her a mild sedative. Better than locking her in a cell. Hopefully he'd have Owen's go-ahead for another dose of Retcon by the time the sedative wore off.

Jack sighed. He needed Owen. He needed Ianto. He needed someone to find out who to contact with the tragic news of Suzie's accident, whatever that was going to be, which meant he needed Tosh as well.

Jack looked down at his hands and was annoyed to see they were shaking. This was all too bloody much. He'd _died _tonight, for Gods-sake. He couldn't do this alone. He shouldn't _have_ to do this alone. Jack needed his team, but he couldn't call any of them until he'd seen to his own cover story.

There was something else to be done first, though. Something far more important and so much harder. Something he couldn't do with Gwen watching. She'd seen enough tonight, poor woman.

So Jack waited, with as much patience as he possessed, while Gwen finished her tea. She placed the cup down with a sigh, smiled weakly, and leaned back against the shabby couch. Jack watched her eyes flutter closed with relief.

With his last excuse for delay gone, Jack dragged his feet to the base of the lift. He raised his arm before him in salute to his fallen comrade, and with fingers trembling across his beloved wrist strap Jack summoned Suzie into the Hub for the last time.

-XXX-

By unspoken consent, it was hot chocolate warming their hands through their mugs, not coffee, as they slumped beside each other on Tosh's couch. Tosh yearned for the oblivion of sleep but her mind still raced, and it would be foolish to add artificial stimulants to the natural cocktail still ebbing through her system.

"Guess Jack was right about not taking artifacts out of the Hub," Ianto mused. "Maybe if Suzie was never alone when she used it, someone might have noticed what it was doing to her."

Tosh nodded. "We all took something though," she pointed out. "Suzie had the glove, Owen took that spray, and I…..Oh, crap!" And Tosh leapt to her feet with a sudden burst of energy and rushed to rummage through her shoulder bag, while Ianto looked on in confusion.

After a moment, Tosh held a small black bag aloft. "I forgot to put it back," she groaned.

"The data recorder," Ianto said. "The one you put Lisa's library on."

Tosh nodded. "And to think, the first time I smuggled it out, it felt like having a rock in my bag," she mourned. "Yet I've carried it around all this time and didn't even notice."

Ianto laughed weakly. "You only took it back from me this afternoon."

Tosh blinked at him. "It feels longer than that," she murmured. She slid the artifact back into her bag, then returned to her spot on the couch and reclaimed her cooling chocolate. "Jack's going to be furious," she mumbled into her mug.

"It might be useful," Ianto said thoughtfully. "If he's got something to yell at us about, he might not bother probing into what were all up to tonight."

"Us?" Tosh queried. "All you've ever had at home was the GPS echo, and you returned that already."

Ianto quirked an eyebrow. "Who do you think Jack's going to blame for artifacts walking out of the archive?"

Tosh smiled and settled back against the cushions. She didn't feel wired anymore. Maybe she'd start feeling sleepy soon.

"Jack," she repeated, turning her mug in her hands, remembering a bullet wound closing by itself. "Do you think it's just bullets?" she asked suddenly. "And maybe something else would kill him?"

"Perhaps a stake through the heart," Ianto suggested, eyebrows lifting. He knew he was evading the subject, but if they started debating the impossible now, neither of them would get any sleep in the few precous hours left before they'd have to go back into the Hub. And from the sparkle that grew in Tosh's eyes at his comment, she needed some lightness as much as he did.

"He's not a vampire," Tosh said decisively. "You can see his reflection in a mirror."

"Oh yeah," Ianto agreed solemnly. "Mind, if Jack couldn't see his own reflection, I think he'd do the stake himself."

Tosh giggled, and it felt so good after the night of tension that she couldn't help pushing it just a little further.

"He did like biting your neck, though," she teased, giggling as a blush started creeping up from the very neck in question

"But he never drew blood," Ianto responded, trying valiantly to stop the blush going any further, and failing miserably.

But Ianto's reddened neck brought another to mind, and Tosh sobered abruptly. "Suzie bled," she said.

"I noticed," Ianto said, suddenly weary. He reached across and squeezed the hand which wasn't holding her mug. "It's a platitude, but at least she's at peace now."

Tosh bit her lip. "I won't pretend we were best friends, but I can't believe Suzie was a murderer. It was the glove. And that knife. They got into her head." Her fingers twitched within Ianto's, twisting around his palm and clenching. "I tried to use it, Ianto. It could have been me."

"Or me," Ianto reminded her. "I tried it too. We all did. The difference was, we rejected it. Suzie welcomed it." He forged on quickly as Tosh opened her mouth to argue. "I'm not saying she knew what it would do to her, Tosh, but don't you think she must have wanted what it offered?"

"Maybe," Tosh said softly. She remembered how the glove felt; the one time she'd worn it. Draining her, but offering something back. Something stronger, perhaps, but Tosh was frightened by the feel of something being drawn from her. She'd pulled the glove off and refused to try again. It was comforting to think that her fear, which she'd always considered a weakness, might well have saved her.

Ianto tipped the dregs of his chocolate into his mouth and set the mug on the coffee table with a slight rattle. "Let's try not to dwell on it," he suggested. "It'll just give us both nightmares."

Tosh place her hand on his chest and gave him a tiny shove. "Are you going to pretend you haven't spent half the night planning how you'll clean the Plass?"

The borrowed T-shirt Ianto was wore shifted beneath Tosh's hand. She frowned, remembering how this very shirt had strained across Ianto's chest the first time he'd worn it, and drew back for an inspection. The T-shirt was indeed much looser. Mickey Mouse's ears were nearly round again. Either Ianto had lost yet more weight, or the fabric had stretched to accommodate him.

Ianto tugged at the shirt, tweaking Mickey's nose, and smiled ruefully beneath her scrutiny. "I've stretched it," he confirmed. "Sorry. Guess you'll have to throw it out."

Tosh shook her head slowly. "I thought I might start sleeping in it myself," she confessed. "Then, after….." Tosh's voice broke. She deposited her own mug on the low table before it had the chance to slip from her fingers and looked across at her friend, meeting an intense blue gaze that reflected her own sadness. She wondered whether he was thinking, as she was, that this might be the last time they'd be able to turn to each other for comfort. With the data they'd sent Dr Tanizaki tonight, Lisa's freedom seemed so very close. Tosh tried to be glad, but couldn't help thinking about how much she'd miss this.

"After you've gone," Tosh continued, forcing her voice into a semblance of steadiness, "Even through the Retcon I'm sure I'll think of this as a special shirt. Kind of a security blanket. Because….because I know I'll feel safe whenever I wear it."

"Oh Tosh," Ianto whispered, gathering her into a hug. "I'll miss you too, Cariad. So much."

-XXX-

It was done. Suzie lay in the single cold storage slot the autopsy bay possessed. Owen could see to her later.

Jack checked on Gwen before trudging to his office. She was still asleep. With a bit of luck, that boyfriend, whoever he was, wouldn't notice her missing for a few hours yet. And if all went well, that same boyfriend would pick her up from hospital later today, with the missing hours explained. Jack hoped they wouldn't have to produce an extra bump on her head, but he'd leave that to Owen.

_If all went well._ Why should it? Jack thought wryly. Nothing's gone well for days now. Or weeks, or months, hell, for the last century.

Jack sank gratefully into his office chair, but was soon frowning at his active terminal. He'd forgotten to shut it down when he charged up after Suzie appeared. Oh well, no harm done. Now that he'd started using the screensaver thing Tosh insisted on, he probably hadn't even wasted much power.

Jack typed _Myfanwy_ into the appropriate space and indulged in the memory of rolling around with a Welshman in a warehouse, until the CCTV view lit up his screen. It was still dark out there, but with the dawn the dark stains on the pavement would be glaringly obvious to anyone passing by. Jack sighed and thought he'd better get the area fenced off until they could deal with it. There were some road-works barriers in the garage. Whoever he dragged in first could bring them up.

Jack consulted his mental to-do list. Delete the CCTV first, since it was already running. Once the evidence of his death and resurrection was gone, Jack could safely call in the rest of team. Accordingly, he browsed through the CCTV master system, feeling annoyed at himself for not keeping up with Tosh's upgrades. He didn't know his way around it as well as he used to. But he couldn't hand this particular task over to Tosh. The only way to protect his secret was to delete the footage from the Plass himself, and do it so thoroughly that even Tosh wouldn't be able to restore it.

Moments after confirming the deletion, Jack shuddered at the realization that he'd not only deleted the views across the Plass, but he'd somehow managed to delete _everything _for an hour either side of his death. _All_ the footage from _all _the cameras linked to the Hub. Tosh might actually kill him, which would totally defeat the purpose of the exercise. Oh well, done is done. Tosh of all of them would most easily accept his argument that he'd wanted to preserve Suzie's dignity.

Jack checked on Gwen again, and then checked his watch, wondering if any of the team was awake yet. Or maybe they hadn't made it to bed. In which case he could pull someone in now. He was sick of doing this alone.

The mere thought lifted his spirits. Jack logged out of the CCTV and into the tracking system. Every employee had a Torchwood GPS device in their vehicle. Torchwood design, far better than those shiny new ATMOS gadgets people were raving about. Owen had complained long and bitterly about the intrusion into his privacy, until Suzie came up with the idea of covering the fuel costs of any vehicle bearing the device. She'd assured Jack that if Owen's privacy had a cost, it would be equal to the pump price.

She'd been right again. Smart Suzie. What happened to the girl who'd laughed with him as they debated the dollar value of Owen's principles?

Suzie's car was nearby. Deal with that later.

Owen was at home. Had been for most of the night. Maybe the morose medic had gotten lucky. Jack was pretty sure the woman at the next table had been eyeing Owen off while they were at that bar. She'd been one of the few who hadn't watched Jack's own progress as he left. Good luck to him, then. Jack flicked a salute at the screen and scrolled onwards. No reason to spoil the doctor's fun until he had to. Gwen was still asleep, after all.

Tosh was at home, too. Sleeping the sleep of the innocent, no doubt.

Jack congratulated himself on leaving Ianto until last. He wasn't obsessed. So there.

But Ianto wasn't home. Not at_ his_ home, anyway.

Jack stared at the screen, but his glare didn't change the address currently winking beside Ianto's car registration.

Looked like the whole team had gotten lucky tonight. Except Jack.

And Suzie, of course

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.  
**(For anyone who's possibly scratching your head and saying 'ATMOS wasn't around yet' I know I'm a season early, but I'm allowing for market saturation. I'm a tad anal about stuff like that for which you can blame my work history. Sad, isn't it?)


	38. Chapter 38

**No excuse for the delay with this one. It's been ready for days and I've been finding any reason not to post it– because there's been a fairly inevitable event in this story that I've been avoiding and I've finally gritted my teeth and tackled it. **

**And Gwen. I've been dodging her too. Let us not consider the number of rewrites this chapter has suffered – paralysis by analysis about covers it.**

**Enough waffle. Here goes….**

* * *

Owen swore loudly as the clamor of his phone disturbed his sleep for the second time that night. It _was _Jack this time, though, so he roused himself enough to answer, but not quite enough for courtesy. That took caffeine.

But Owen was wide awake and cursing before Jack finished his first sentence. He was still swearing as his car engine roared into life, shattering the pre-dawn peace, rousing the birds into a premature dawn chorus. Owen smiled for the first time since Jack's call. He'd never liked his neighbors much, anyway.

He'd liked Suzie though. What sort of man – what sort of _doctor_ – was he? Suzie must have been falling to pieces right in front of him and he'd done nothing about it beyond kicking her out of his bed.

Jack's voice still spoke urgently into his Bluetooth as Owen powered along the quiet streets with scant regard for road rules. Anger and guilt flitted through Owen in counterpoint to the speed cameras which flashed in his wake. The cameras Teaboy would deal with – and he'd better have coffee waiting, this early in the morning. The anger he could offload onto Jack. The guilt, however, was his own, and it would sit with all the rest of his unresolved emotional baggage until it found an outlet. Owen shook his head at himself at the thought. Was it healthy to be aware of the amount of crap he was repressing? He supposed the alternative was denial, or actually finding that outlet. Jack's voice intruded into his musings so Owen shrugged it all into the background again. Torchwood supplied the baggage; no doubt it would come up with an outlet, too. It was probably a Universal Imperative, or Karma, some shit like that.

"We'll have to fence off some of the Plass until after the cleanup," Jack said. "I'm sure we left some roadwork barriers in the garage. You can bring them up with you."

Owen snorted. "That's Teaboy's job. And the clean-up, too." The cleanup. Cleaning up after Suzie. Owen's throat felt thick. From what Jack said, Suzie had bled out on the Plass. Owen was a doctor, he should be used to blood, yet the thought of cleaning away hers turned his stomach.

"But you're here," Jack said sweetly, "and he's not. Bring them up with you."

"Where is he then?" Owen demanded. There was something off in Jack's attitude, and Owen was determined to pin it down, if only for the distraction. And the pleasure of making Jack squirm, of course. A rare pleasure, that.

"I haven't called him yet," Jack answered evasively.

"Why not?" Owen demanded. The sun was rising, leaving him squinting through the windscreen. Owen hated squinting, it would give him wrinkles, but who'd think of grabbing sunglasses before sunrise, for Gods sake. "If you're gonna drag me in at this ungodly hour, the least you can do is make sure I've got a decent caffeine supply."

On the other end of the phone, Jack twitched with irritation. "Gwen could wake up any moment," he explained, hanging on to his façade of calm with effort. "I need you to tell me whether she can handle another dose of Retcon and if she can, well, the less she's exposed to the better. So I've not called anyone except you. You OK with that?"

Owen was comfortable with the sarcasm but it didn't stop him wondering what Jack was hiding.

"Not particularly," he answered. He swore again as the light ahead turned red, contemplated leaving the red-light camera to Teaboy as well, then slammed on the brakes because there actually were cars approaching the intersection from the other direction. Hadn't seen them properly, what with the sun rising in his eyes like that. People going to work already. Poor sods. Not unlike himself, though. And there'd be no bloody coffee. Sod that.

"If she's broken the Retcon," Owen argued, "She'll probably remember seeing all of us anyway. We can't manage this just with you and me, Jack. The cover-up alone is gonna be massive."

"I've worked that out for myself," Jack said, his patience finally wearing thin. "Which is why I'm having Ianto work with Tosh on it." They'll like that, Jack thought resentfully. Later, he would blame that momentary lapse into emotion for what he said next. "And they'll both work better if they've had a decent night's sleep."

The lights finally changed. Owen's irritation eased as the Plass came into sight and he finally realised exactly what was bothering him about Jack's attitude. Only a small thing, but ringing false nonetheless. Jack had never before hesitated to order any one of them in, regardless of where they'd been or what they were doing. In bed, in the shower, in the middle of cutting their own birthday cake, nothing took precedence if Jack decided Torchwood needed them. It sat wrong, this reluctance to call Teaboy in, especially when up until now Jack had seized on any excuse to have the bloke nearby.

Owen contemplated the chink in Jack's armor as he approached the Plass, sifted through likely causes, and allowed his mind to draw the conclusion it preferred. The one which left Tosh in need of consolation.

-XXX-

The sound of screams roused Ianto from the uneasy sleep offered by the lumpy mattress beneath him. There was no sense of panic as his mind prodded him unwillingly back to consciousness. Waking to screams was nothing new. It had happened countless times in the days before Tosh assured Lisa a steady supply of painkillers. Accordingly, he wasted several half-conscious moments groping for the converter controls before shaking off the disorientation and following the screams into Tosh's room.

-XXX-

"I can't help wondering," Owen mused. "Why is Teaboy so in need of sleep? Not to mention how exactly you'd know that, Jack?"

"It seems a reasonable assumption, given that you haven't stopped bitching about your own lack of sleep since I called you," Jack snapped back, biting his lip at how easily Owen could break his composure. And at how flimsy his excuses were. It was a sad thing when an experienced conman like himself couldn't come up with better.

"That's be reasonable," Owen conceded, "Not that you usually are. But yeah, it's be reasonable except that you'd already decided not to call him before you dragged me out, hadn't you?" Jack didn't seem to have a snappy comeback for that. Owen grinned. He was enjoying this. It was almost worth being woken up for.

Jack swore silently. He didn't want Owen to know he'd used the GPS to find out how long Ianto's car had been parked under Tosh's building. Owen had been the most resistant of the team to having the device installed. An invitation to invade our privacy, he'd called it. It was bad enough for Jack to know he'd proven the medic right; he didn't want to have to confess it, too. And while Jack's usually agile mind sought in vain for a convincing comeback, Owen drew his own conclusions.

"You dirty dog," Owen said finally, a hint of grudging respect in his tone. "You got him into your bed again, didn't you?" A slow, twisted grin spread across Owen's face as he listened to Jack's breathing hitch on the other end of the phone. Direct hit.

"Leave it, Owen," Jack growled. It was laughable, really. He should just agree. It'd soothe his ragged ego beautifully to let Owen think he'd lured the recalcitrant Welshman back into his bed. And it was obviously what Owen wanted to hear, much as he claimed to be over his attraction to Tosh.

"Wore him out and sent him home, I suppose," Owen continued inexorably. This was a rare joy. He had Harkness squirming and it calmed the uneasy emotions roiling inside him since Jack told him about Suzie. Maybe Jack didn't deserve this, maybe Owen was just spitting his bile out through his mouth, but better that than giving him ulcers. The best thing about this particular tack was how it had equal squirm value regardless of whether Jack had to deny it or admit it. Suitable recompense for being hauled out of bed to face a workmate's corpse without the benefit of caffeine.

Jack swallowed against the knot of anger in his throat which had begun to grow the second he'd realized the extent of Suzie's betrayal. Anger, guilt, frustration, grief and anger again, simmering in his chest, rising up in the attempt to escape. Owen wasn't the target it sought, but he was making himself a very tempting alternative.

"Or is the lie-in a reward for services rendered?" Owen finished brightly. "Tacky, Harkness, Tacky."

Actually, Owen had been painting a bull's-eye on his forehead from the time he'd answered his phone.

"He might well be worn out," Jack hissed. "But it wasn't me that did it."

"Oh yeah?" Owen asked, with a certain amount of interest. This was new. "And how could you know that, Jack? Unless you've put CCTV in his flat, I mean. Stalker, much?"

Owen felt something like a stalker himself. Or a hunter, closing in for the kill. Images floated on the edge of his vision, soap-bubble bright and shining, tempting him with pictures of how he'd be consoling Tosh by the end of the day. And all he needed to turn them from dream to reality was an admission from Jack.

"I checked on all of you," Jack said defensively. "Had to find out who was nearest, didn't I?"

Jack was so close to cracking. One more push ought to do it.

"And yet," Owen said, "You've just been telling me what a bad idea it would be to have anyone except me around when Gwen wakes up." He paused, long enough to savor the approaching victory, as a hunter watches a deer through the scope before pulling the trigger. "What is it you're not telling me this time, Jack? 'Cause you're doing a shite job of hiding it."

"He's at Tosh's," Jack spat, finally goaded past the point of caring. "Been there all night, for all I know." Which was true. He'd been faintly disgusted to find himself scrolling back through the timestamps. He hadn't gone back any further than an hour. Or two. Long enough.

Owen could almost hear the bubbles pop as each shiny daydream exploded. Tosh didn't need him. She had the one she needed. And he was fine with that, or he would be if Jack would just stop involving him in this stalker crap.

"I'm just pulling into the garage," Owen said, after a frosty silence. "You can come and meet me. I'm not carrying all that ironmongery by myself."

-XXX-

_Tosh shrank against the damp wall of the Hub, watching Jack saunter around oblivious to the bright red bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. Suzie wielded a blowtorch in one hand, while the other clutched the back of her head, holding the edges of her wound together. Owen stood behind Suzie, trying to stitch the wound closed with blood pouring over his hands. The floor split open and Lisa climbed out, declaring that she didn't have to hide anymore, because maybe her brain was wired, but at least she still __**had**__ one. She reached back into the gaping hole in the floor and helped Ianto out. Tosh saw his glowing smile and heard his whispered thanks as the metal crept from Lisa's fingers to wreathe along his own._

"Hush, Cariad," a voice murmured soothingly, over and over again, weaving through the nightmare, unraveling it and drawing her safely out. Tosh shuddered awake with her own screams still echoing in her ears as the voice continued soothing. "It was just a dream, Cariad. You're OK. You're safe."

The voice was soft. The hands stroking her hair were soft, too, and warm. Flesh, not metal. Tosh buried her head somewhere between Mickey Mouse's ears, where the last of her nightmare-induced tears vanished into the cotton.

"Ianto?" she mumbled sleepily. "You didn't go with her, then?"

Ianto swallowed against the lump in his throat and stroked the dark hair. "Sleep, Cariad. I'm here. I'm here now."

He'd only meant to hold her until she fell asleep, but he was exhausted, too, and Tosh's bed was much more comfortable than the one in her spare room.

-XXX-

Owen parked his car with a testosterone fuelled roar completely ruined by his coughing fit as he stepped out into the cloud of exhaust fumes. Jack laughed a hoarse, gravelly laugh that was certainly laughing 'at' rather than 'with'.

They didn't speak as they hefted the awkward metal barriers from the garage to the Plass, but they didn't continue to tear strips off each other, either. Perhaps the physical effort absorbed the remains of their animosity. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Ianto would have found a trolley and saved them half the effort, but Ianto was probably still curled up in bed with Toshiko, and both men were too close to the edge to contemplate that just now.

They'd been here long enough for their eyes to show what their minds insisted wasn't there, so they could both see the stone that marked the lift. Jack had sent it back up in response to the echo of Gwen's voice in his head, asking why no-one ever fell through the gap. No one ever _had_ fallen through, which seemed enough in itself. Jack didn't need to know why. If the universe wanted him to know, it would see that he found out.

Still, with the risk brought to his attention, sending the stone back up seemed the right thing to do. So there it was, blackened and stained and reproaching them with their neglect. Maybe Ianto would get it clean or maybe he wouldn't and it would be Suzie's monument for as long as the stones of the Plass lasted. What they'd do about the trail that led to it was anyone's guess.

So, swearing and grunting as they hefted the awkward metal barriers, the two men cordoned off Suzie's deathbed. The stones were slippery underfoot. Owen had to call on every ounce of his medical detachment to keep his stomach where it belonged. Blood, yeah, he could handle blood, but there was a reason doctors weren't supposed to treat their own relatives. This blood belonged to someone he knew, someone he used to like, and it should be decently hidden beneath her skin, not sliding beneath his feet.

"What a bloody mess," Owen sighed, surveying their work. And for once his favorite adjective was perfectly apt.

Jack's hand fell on Owen's shoulder, squeezed briefly before returning to rub across his own eyes. There was still so much to do, but at least he didn't have to do it alone any more. "Let's go back inside," he suggested.

"I'm not going back down on that," Owen declared.

Jack couldn't help but agree with him. They entered the Hub via the tourism office.

-XXX-

Tosh moved reluctantly towards wakefulness, feeling inexplicably safe. Senses awoke slowly, in response to the unaccustomed sense of security. Her cheek rested against something warmer and harder than her pillow. There was another something under her head that wasn't a pillow, too. Something against her face, something beneath her neck, both smelling the same, both smelling as safe as they felt. Eyes still didn't want to open, didn't want to wake into a world that would take the safety away. This, Tosh thought fuzzily, is how children feel when they cuddle up with a security blanket. If this was a dream, it was better than the kind she usually had.

Something moved along her back, something that felt like a hand, her mother's hand, or maybe her first boyfriend's, which seemed more appropriate somehow, and Tosh sank into soft memories while a voice murmured in her ear. A voice as heavy with sleep as Tosh's eyes were.

"Cariad," it said, a deep, comfortable, _safe _voice, resounding with longing that surely couldn't be directed at _her_, but this was her dream, so she'd believe it if she wanted.

In the spirit of which Tosh pressed her face closer against the surface that logic suggested had to be a chest. A flat one, therefore male. Tosh waited for the panic to shatter to the comfort, but it didn't. Which settled it, she was definitely dreaming, otherwise she'd be scared, surely? Though, given that she'd recently had that tentative fantasy about taking over from Ianto in the task of 'distracting Jack', maybe she _had_ progressed past the terror which ruined that Christmas kiss with Owen.

Or it really was a dream, in which case, she might as well enjoy it. Tosh's sleep-muddled mind agreed wholeheartedly, but that stubborn conscious self wouldn't stop yelling at her to wake up. Tosh twitched within the arms that encircled her.

"Cariad," the voice repeated. The hand moved along her back, stroking, soothing away tension that shouldn't have still been there while she was asleep.

It would have been so nice if Tosh's mind wasn't determined to wake her up and make sense of it all.

"Lisa," the voice concluded, so full of longing Tosh's heart might have broken all over again, because it wasn't a dream, and the longing wasn't for her.

Fighting an inexplicable wave of reluctance, Tosh drew her head back and dragged her eyelids open. It was Ianto, of course, which explained why she hadn't woken screaming and fighting. He was firmly asleep, and dreaming of Lisa, no doubt. Dreaming of the past; or a future where the woman he loved was whole and warm in his arms. Which explained the rest of it. The smile on his face, the longing in his voice, not to mention the pressure against her leg which Tosh was only now becoming aware of and would continue to pretend she hadn't noticed.

"Ianto," Tosh said firmly, gripping a shoulder and shaking gently. "Ianto, wake up."

Ianto's eyelids fluttered. "Lisa?" He was nearly awake. The pleading note in his voice brought tears to Tosh's eyes.

"It's me, Ianto. It's Toshiko," she said softly, almost unwillingly. Her hand reached across to stroke his face, in an instinctive and probably pointless effort to soothe the pain which would come with full consciousness.

"Tosh," he mumbled, but instead of drawing away, Ianto cuddled closer and buried his face in her hair. "Had such a nice dream, Tosh."

It was a very inappropriate time to giggle. "I can tell," Tosh said pertly.

Ianto's eyes flew open and he jerked his lower body away as his face flamed. "God, Tosh, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Ianto." And awkward, and embarrassing, but still a perfectly natural response given that they'd been snuggled up as though they were each other's favorite teddy bear.

Ianto rolled onto his back and threw an arm across his face. His free arm, given that Tosh's head was still lying across the other. Somehow neither of them had rectified that yet.

"I thought you were Lisa," Ianto explained from beneath his forearm.

"So I gathered," Tosh assured him, "It could have been worse. You might." She paused to take a breath and stifle a giggle. "You might have thought I was Jack."

She hadn't consciously gone for humor to defuse the tension, but it was working, regardless. Ianto's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Tosh's giggles grew into strangled, breathless laughter as Ianto used the arm beneath her to drag Tosh close enough for a punitive tickling session.

So yeah, maybe they'd woken up entwined like lovers, but they'd ended up like teenagers at a pyjama party, so everything was going to be just fine. Wasn't it?

-XXX-

"Please tell me this isn't the same table you cut up alien bodies on?"

Owen regarded the woman sitting warily on the autopsy table. "It isn't the table I cut up alien bodies on," he repeated dutifully.

From the rails above, Jack snickered. "He's lying."

Owen looked up. "I only did what she asked," he said virtuously. "And she didn't ask for the truth."

Gwen's hand shot out and grasped Owen by the collar of his white coat. "_She_ is Gwen, and she's right here. Stop talking around me as if I don't exist."

Owen detached the hand. "Wishful thinking," he explained. "We wish you'd never been here at all, to tell the truth."

Gwen glowered. The stairs creaked as Jack jogged down them.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said cheerfully.

Gwen gazed up at him accusingly. "You drugged me! Again!"

"Yep," Jack agreed. "Had work to do and I didn't want you in the way." He raised a hand as Gwen's mouth opened to protest. "Would you have preferred a cell?"

Gwen returned to glowering. Jack turned to Owen. "Well?"

Owen rubbed the back of his neck. "She's already broken through Retcon once," he commented.

"I didn't drag you in to tell me something I already knew," Jack said impatiently. "The question is, can we dose her again?"

"Still here!" Gwen snapped.

Owen sighed. "At least autopsies don't nag."

Gwen returned fire. Jack found the insults quite amusing, so he let them go at it for a minute or two. Gwen probably needed an outlet for the stress, anyway.

"This is all very amusing, but, moving on," Jack said eventually. "Owen, can we give Gwen another dose of Retcon, or not?"

Owen frowned. "I'll have to check her out. It's not been that long since the last dose. Have to make sure her system can stand it."

Gwen shrank back on the table. "I don't want it," she said.

"What you want isn't the main consideration here, I'm afraid," Jack said. The regret in his tone wasn't faked. He'd rather not have to Retcon Gwen again. He agreed with Owen, so far as wishing Gwen had never uncovered Torchwood's secrets, but since she had, his mind abounded with possibilities. The police were getting far too inquisitive lately. A bit aggressive. Territorial, maybe. It'd settle them nicely to have one of their own to liaise with. Suzie had planned to try, Jack thought wistfully, but now they'd never know how that might have worked out.

Jack dragged his mind firmly back. "You know too much," he told Gwen, firmly disregarding the sympathy welling in him at the sudden fear in her eyes. "We can't have you spouting what you've heard and seen to the general public."

Gwen flushed. "I can keep a secret," she asserted.

Owen snorted. "Oh yeah, you've been terribly discreet so far, haven't you? Blundering into the middle of a Weevil capture and getting your mates to run identity checks and stumbling around the Plass tonight and….and…" He wasn't being fair, he knew, but maybe if Gwen hadn't been on the Plass, snooping, then Suzie wouldn't have….

Owen felt a hand drop onto his shoulder. Jack's hand, squeezing, unexpectedly steadying. "Whatever," Owen mumbled.

"You did already threaten to take the knowledge of the glove to the police," Jack pointed out. "Just before your last dose of Retcon, as I recall."

Gwen's eyes dropped. She'd remembered that, too.

"We were still testing it," Jack continued, "and because it _was_ just us, we'll be able to contain the damage. If you'd had your way, what do you think would have happened?" Jack paused to contemplate it himself, and an involuntary shudder ran through him. "A whole troop of DI's using the glove, becoming like…." And here Jack's voice faltered, too, because why hadn't he _seen_ it? It was Owen's turn to provide the steadying contact, a hand on his arm, more punch than pat.

Gwen sighed. She couldn't deny the truth of that. The idea of some of her superiors controlling that glove was truly shudder-worthy. Maybe Torchwood's wonders _were _best kept out of reach. But still, Gwen didn't want to forget what she'd seen, didn't want her world to shrink back to the confines of yesterday. She_ could_ help, if they let her. They needed someone like her. Look at these men before her, so cold, so clinical, lost souls, both of them. They hadn't even noticed their poor colleague sinking into the grip of that glove. Gwen was sure _she'd _have noticed. And she'd have helped.

Gwen looked searchingly at Jack, saw his gaze turn blank as their eyes met. The table beneath her was only just beginning to warm from her body heat. No sign that Jack had occupied it before her. And surely, as his doctor, Owen would have insisted on checking Jack over if he'd known Jack was shot tonight, for all that he looked completely undamaged. She'd bet a weeks wages that Owen didn't know Jack could cheat death. How lonely, to have a secret like that.

Jack's gaze hadn't warmed, and Gwen felt a chill which had nothing to do with the cold metal table. She remembered the other woman – Toshiko – blithely describing how they'd covered up the murder of the hospital porter. If they could do that to him, they could do it to her.

Then Gwen thought of Rhys and something clamped around her heart. If Gwen was a danger to Torchwood, Torchwood was a danger to Rhys. She couldn't put her memories before his safety.

"Do what you have to," Gwen said finally. "I won't fight it."

Jack nodded his approval. Owen stretched his hands until the knuckles cracked. "I'll need blood," he announced.

-XXX-

Tosh shrank away from the tickling fingers, breathless from laughter. "Stop," she squeaked. Ianto's hand immediately stilled on her ribs, but it didn't move away.

Early morning sunlight leaked through the gaps in the blind, outlining the form looming above her. It wasn't like a pyjama party any more. Tosh remembered vaguely that her mother had never approved of that sort of party and she suddenly understood why.

But she'd never felt _less_ threatened in her life.

"There's no way I'd have mistaken you for Jack," Ianto murmured. Something about his voice dried her throat. The hands on her ribs moved, trailing fireworks in their wake. A hundred years from now, she'd know where those fingers touched, where they'd missed.

The pressure on her leg hadn't gone away. Or it was back.

Tosh felt the blood rush to her cheeks, pound against her temples. She looked up, into his eyes, and they were wide, and dark. Drinking her in, drowning her while his hands scorched her skin through the thin material of her pyjamas.

"Ianto," she whispered. It was odd how hotly blue eyes could burn. Tosh felt as though she was melting beneath that gaze, and was almost surprised that her hand looked normal as she lifted it to rest against his cheek, her touch drawing its own fire to the surface of his skin. This is how a chocolate bar feels in the sun, Tosh thought, with her last scrap of whimsy. The wrapper outside looks perfectly normal, but inside it's just a puddle.

The rational part of her brain told Tosh that all of this was just reaction to the trauma of the past night. That in the midst of death, it was very human to reach for life. That if she followed where this led, it didn't have to mean anything beyond two friends comforting each other.

She didn't want to listen to her brain, just this once.

Tosh watched her hand as it floated along Ianto's cheek. Saw and felt the muscles twitch beneath her fingertips, watched his eyes flutter closed. Her hand drifted, tracing a path along his along his jaw-line, and her mind drifted along with it. Wondering whether she should stop this, knowing that she could. And that knowledge made all the difference in the world.

"We shouldn't," Ianto said. He didn't sound very convinced, or convincing, with his voice shaking like that. He was just offering her an out, an escape. Tosh knew she ought to take it, for both their sakes. Only she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Her mind swung dizzily, like a pendulum, from one extreme to the other. From Do to Don't, from Yes to No, from Right to Wrong. Ianto was her friend, her best friend, _only _a friend. She loved him, but he wasn't her lover. He wasn't the one she wanted, but she'd run in fear from the man she wanted. She'd been so scared, but she wasn't scared now. _She wasn't scared_, and that was such a huge step forward, maybe it was enough. Maybe she could _make_ it be enough.

Tosh let her own eyelids drop, surrendering to a shining moment torn out of chaos, letting her mind play this out as it would. But her closed eyes saw Owen's face above her own, just as she'd expected, and the moment shattered into a thousand shards of crystal, beautiful and painful all at once.

Tosh opened her eyes. "We shouldn't," she agreed, her voice as uncertain as his. That would never do. Her hand felt cold as she let it fall back to her side and her heart felt heavy as she watched his head move in an effort to follow.

"We can't, Ianto," Tosh said, more firmly, and the words hurt her throat.

Ianto's eyes opened, blinked, cleared. He pulled away, murmuring broken apologies; and the bed was empty and the fire was gone and Tosh was cold, so cold, and the pendulum in her head began to swing again. Relief chased regret. Had she escaped or had she embraced her prison? Because right at this moment, Tosh didn't knew whether she was glad she'd spoken, or if she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

**I suppose you either loved that or hated it. Of course I'd love to know which, but I'm flammable, so please keep any flames on low heat.**


	39. Chapter 39

**As usual, I begin with apologies for the delay. But the first draft of this chapter was utter crap, and anyone who is taking the time to read this deserves better, so I couldn't present it to you. All the crappy bits are now deleted or rewritten. The good news is in this chapter we finish with Everything Changes.  
****  
****Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this, especially those who are kind enough to review.  
(Blows kiss at reviews counter-I'm deeply grateful for every one.)**

* * *

Tosh listened to the sound of the shower running. It was a comforting sound. Part of her expected the door to slam as Ianto rushed out of her life forever. But Ianto hadn't left, hadn't fled. He was having a shower. A cold one, no doubt, and against all expectations Tosh was smiling again, if somewhat weakly. She had to believe their friendship would survive this. She refused to believe anything else.

Tosh was in the kitchen when Ianto emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, wearing the suit from yesterday, and how he must be hating it, having the wear yesterday's shirt again. But then, Tosh hadn't waited for her own shower before getting dressed herself. They had a friendship to repair and Tosh didn't think wearing the pyjamas to which Ianto's scent still clung would assist the process.

Ianto stood awkwardly in the hall doorway. Waiting. Tosh supposed it was up to her to break the thin ice on which they both teetered. She gritted her teeth and took the plunge.

"Breakfast?" she asked briskly. "Toast or porridge? I should warn you, my porridge making repertoire doesn't extend beyond the one-minute variety." At which Tosh realised she was babbling and clamped her lips shut.

Ianto stepped out of the doorway, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Tosh, I…I think I should just leave."

Tosh dropped her eyes, bit her lip and forced her voice into a semblance of steadiness. "See you at work, then."

Ianto sighed heavily and moved closer. At least, his voice did. Tosh still hadn't looked up from the mugs she was washing.

"Tosh, please look at me?"

She did, against the protest of every muscle in her neck, to see Ianto leaning against the other side of the kitchen bench. Tosh thought with a hint of bitterness that before this morning he would have simply walked around to the other side.

"I'm not trying to run away," Ianto said, with a valiant attempt at firmness.

Tosh almost laughed. She could see stubble on his cheeks. The same stubble, she thought, with a stab of some feeling she couldn't name, that she'd felt beneath her fingers such a short time ago. Ianto hadn't taken the time to shave, and his hair looked as though he'd combed it with his fingers. All the evidence screamed that he couldn't wait to get away. And it hurt.

"The hell you aren't," Tosh accused, eyes filling in spite of her effort to hold the tears inside.

Ianto ran his hands through his already disordered hair. "OK, I'm in a hurry, but not because of….." He faltered beneath her gaze, and then stumbled on. "I need to get home and get some fresh clothes, and I can't risk being late." Tosh hated the hint of desperation in his tone, hated more that she'd put it there. "You know we can't risk anything out of the ordinary today, don't you?"

Tosh sighed. "I know." And she knew she was being horrible to him, as well. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. He was right. Of course he was right. But Tosh couldn't help thinking it was just a bit convenient, too. The sun wasn't even properly up yet. He had time for a coffee, and a first stab at putting their friendship back on track. Assuming he wanted that as much as she did. Maybe Ianto didn't think it was worth the effort, especially since he was leaving soon anyway.

"And the earlier I get in, the more chance I'll have of sneaking a trip down to Lisa," Ianto continued. "She must have heard the shots. She might think it was us, Tosh."

Tosh's spiraling descent into a well of self-pity ceased abruptly. She hadn't even thought about Lisa. Especially not while contemplating the seduction of Lisa's boyfriend. But now Tosh's throat closed around a lump of guilt as she thought of the woman trapped in the basement, wondering whether her boyfriend was still alive, and on top of that having to contemplate the possibility that the only two people who knew where she was were gone forever. Tosh felt thoroughly sick on Lisa's behalf. Sick, and selfish, and so ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Ianto," Tosh said, with much more sincerity now. "Of course you have to go. And we'll make sure you get some time with Lisa today, somehow, we will."

Their eyes met, with too much that was awkward lying unspoken between them.

Tosh couldn't bear it. She licked her lips nervously and spoke before she lost her nerve. "Ianto, you aren't going to…..to say anything to her, are you?"

Ianto looked back at her with misery clear in his eyes. "I have to, Tosh," he said, trying hard to drum up a reassuring smile. "It'll be OK. She forgave me about Jack, and…this was…"

"It was nothing," Tosh put in quickly. Too quickly. Trying to convince herself of the lie, trying to ignore the flash of hurt in Ianto's eyes at the dismissal. She sighed heavily. "I didn't mean that, exactly, but….you didn't _do_ anything. _We _didn't do anything."

Ianto shifted uneasily on his feet. "I know, but…..oh hell, Tosh, in some ways it's worse. Because I…I…..can still convince myself being with Jack wasn't cheating," he continued, the words falling over each other as he rushed to get them said. "But with you, it _would_ have been."

Then he was gone, leaving only the echo of the slamming door behind him. Tosh was left with a piece of toast hanging from her fingers, staring blindly at the spot where her best friend used to be.

-XXX-

The tests were done. Gwen had to admit, if grudgingly, that Owen seemed to be a competent doctor. It hadn't hurt at all when he'd taken her blood. She didn't appreciate the way he'd put a cartoon bandage over the tiny wound, though. Donald Duck, for goodness sake. All sorts of comments about quacks hovered on the tip of her tongue, but it wouldn't do to say any of them with so many sharp objects handy.

For lack of anything better to do, Gwen followed Jack around the Hub as they waited for Owen to produce the results. She felt something like a lost puppy, and she didn't like the feeling. It _was _exciting to watch the pterodactyl feeding though, even if Jack wouldn't let her get too close.

"Keep back," he warned. "For all she knows, you're food." At which he paused, tapping a finger thoughtfully against a chin that was, Gwen noticed, rather beautifully chiseled.

"Have to do something about that," Jack muttered, probably to himself. Gwen didn't think he was talking about his chin. Though, given that it _was _the decade of the metro-sexual, she couldn't help wondering if he already_ had_ done something about the chin. It even had a cleft.

The pterodactyl swooped down for its meal. Flapping, bat-like wings, scythe-like claws and a long, pointy beak. Gwen kept back.

-XXX-

Water dripped ceaselessly on its path along the basement wall, echoing loudly against straining ears, or what passed for them. Lisa wished fervently that Tosh hadn't been so vigilant in dismantling that CCTV feed. She needed to know what was going on up there, and was frustrated by the inability to reliably distinguish any sounds further than the Hub.

Gunshots were a different matter. Lisa had heard those quite clearly. Two of them. The fact that the shots _hadn't _been followed by police sirens suggested that Torchwood had flung its mantle over both shooter and victim, whoever they were.

Lisa was fretting. Actually fretting. The uncertainty was causing a chemical imbalance which fluctuated too wildly for her converter to correct. She'd sent Ianto and Toshiko up there before the shots were fired. Surely Jack wouldn't have shot them just for being in the Hub without authorization? Logic argued against that, but logic didn't seem to have any bearing on human reaction. Especially, it appeared, where Captain Jack Harkness was concerned.

_Damn_ Jack. Lisa hadn't even met him and she was as close to hating him as her emotional inhibitor allowed. Why didn't he do anything the way he was supposed to? She'd ceded Jack the rights to Ianto's body, but _not_ his life. Ianto was_ hers_. Lisa didn't want Ianto to be dead. Or Tosh, either. They were _both_ hers. They were destined to be her co-leaders in the new world. They mustn't be dead, either of them. They _couldn't _be dead.

_Let the bullets have torn into someone else. Anyone else. I can do without the rest, but I__** need**__ those two. _

_Tanizaki won't be able find me, without them._

-XXX-

Gwen's heart lodged firmly in her throat when Owen appeared at the door of Jack's office. She swallowed against it as Owen strode across the small space without as much as a glance in her direction. Competent doctor, maybe, but his bedside manner was shite.

"There are still traces of the last dose in her blood," Owen reported. One of the detectives at work swore that if the jury avoided looking at the defendant it meant they'd return a 'guilty' verdict. Gwen hoped he was wrong. Or that one of them would look at her.

Jack grunted. Very gentlemanly behavior, Gwen noted sourly.

"And I'm not too happy with her blood pressure," Owen continued. "I wouldn't recommend topping up the Retcon just yet."

Gwen wasn't sure whether to be relieved. She hadn't enjoyed the experience of waking up with no memory of what she'd done the night before, and she didn't want to repeat the experience. But there were some alternatives even less attractive than forgetfulness. Gwen shuddered, and instinctively tried to hide it. Both men were watching her now, scrutinizing her with a lack of emotion which didn't bode well.

Jack huffed out a sigh. "I suppose I might as well call the others in then."

A twisted smile spread across Owen's face. "It's hardly Torchwood if you aren't in before the sun's fully up," he agreed.

Jack ignored the jibe and concentrated on his phone as his thumbs danced on the keypad. Gwen allowed herself to feel superior about the fact that she could text faster than him.

Jack's phone clattered back onto his desk. He leaned back in his chair and looked from Gwen to the doctor. "You said 'yet', Owen," he queried. "Does that mean it'll be safe later?"

Owen shrugged. "Can't tell. I'll need to take more blood, and I'll…."

Gwen was soon lost in the technicalities of the explanation, and bit her lip in frustration as she contemplated the futility of reminding the dour medic that she was, in fact, still in the room. An interruption would probably only serve as an excuse for another round of insults. Gwen didn't mind the verbal warfare; in fact, she quite liked swapping barbs with the sarcastic doctor. But at the moment Gwen just wanted to discover her fate, much as she still railed against being in the power of these two men.

Hmmm. Men. That set off a promising train of thought, that did. You couldn't survive in a macho-dominated workplace without learning certain techniques, and if they weren't totally ethical, well, neither was the sexism. Gwen's defensive mechanisms stirred, along with everything she'd ever learnt about surviving a hostage situation. Which this was, kind of, for all that she'd basically walked into it of her own volition.

She _was _in their power, with nothing to protect her but her wits. Everything she'd discovered and remembered about Torchwood shrieked that these men held the power of life and death in their hands. Her life. Only they didn't seem cruel people- at least, not so much cruel as hardened.

Looking at it that way, Gwen realised she was handling this all wrong. Handling _them_ all wrong. She'd been fighting them, which could only make men like this defensive. Time for a different approach. Gwen put aside any feminist qualms and pulled out all available ammunition for inspection. She had her mind and her body and bugger all else. All that mattered was getting safely home to Rhys, preferably with her memory intact. Whatever that took. Decision made, Gwen ran quickly through her available arsenal. Would flirting help? Couldn't hurt. Would they be more amenable to the 'damsel in distress' approach? Maybe a bit of both. And a dash of humor as well, she'd already noticed they both responded to that.

Both men were still ignoring her, embroiled in the discussion flowing quite literally over her head. Gwen ducked her chin so they wouldn't see what she was up to, and sent up a silent vote of thanks to Scarlet O'Hara for the invisible arsenal she'd given all women. With the humor strengthening her resolve, Gwen licked some moisture across lips already reddened from nervous biting, pinched her cheeks to bring some color to her face, then concentrated on getting her eyes as wide as possible before looking up.

"I'm a bit stressed, perhaps," she said, into the next gap in the conversation, letting her lips turn up slightly. "Might account for the blood pressure."

Jack smiled, and a devastating smile it was. "Understandable," he commented.

"Now if you'd kindly have a coronary, you'd solve all our problems," Owen added, his tone carrying a notably lower level of sarcasm. Gwen's smile widened, and neither of them would know it was a smile of triumph. It was working already. Onward in the same fashion, then.

"What are you going to do with me?" Gwen asked softly. She hoped she wasn't overdoing it with the eyelashes as she let her gaze flicker from one to the other.

"Nothing lethal, I expect," Owen responded immediately. His hand twitched towards her, but he drew it back and dropped it to his side before it made contact.

Gwen lowered her eyes again, partly for effect, but mostly so neither man would see the satisfaction blazing from them. She'd known from the way he'd held her out on the Plass that Jack didn't _want_ to do her any harm, but she'd been afraid Owen might sway him. Now she had Owen on side, too.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw the two men exchange meaningful glances, and watched the tension easing out of both strong male jaws. This was almost too easy. Gwen would have felt guilty if she wasn't so relieved.

An alarm blared. Jack looked up sharply. "Ianto's here," he announced.

"Tosh won't be far behind, then," Owen commented.

Gwen was still watching the two men closely. There was so much being said without words, and she couldn't help wondering what was behind the pain-filled glance they exchanged.

"I'll go get Ianto started on the cleanup," Jack decided, rising to his feet and brushing imaginary dust from his clothes.

Owen shook his head as Jack hurried out into the Hub. "Coffee first," he yelled. Jack waved an arm, but didn't so much as look back.

"He's bloody hopeless," Owen muttered. "Absolute sucker for a pretty face, as you've obviously noticed." His gaze fixed on Gwen, eyes and voice taunting. "Nice job with the eyelashes, there."

Gwen's eyes dropped to her lap as her face burned. Owen snickered. "Hope you know what you've let yourself in for," he added, before sauntering through the door of the office.

Gwen sprang up as he left. No one had told her to stay still, she thought rebelliously, and while she valued her own safety too much to wander around without someone to protect her from that pterodactyl, there was no reason she couldn't watch what was going on out there.

Gwen was peering through the glass by the time the unwieldy metal door rolled back into place behind the young man who'd let her into the Hub the first time. Ianto. A nice-looking young man, wearing a suit, and Gwen couldn't help agreeing as she remembered Jack saying that he looked good in one. As if it was part of his job description, almost, Gwen remembered uneasily. Owen's parting comment, coupled with how close Jack was standing as he gave the younger man his orders, seemed to justify Ianto's return parry about harassment. Gwen bit her lip anxiously, wondering whether her attempt to flirt her way to safety was going to prove itself a classic case of out of the frying pan.

The errant thought wandered through Gwen's mind that, if she didn't have Rhys, Jack Harkness was a fire she wouldn't mind lighting. But of course, she _did_ have Rhys, and Gwen didn't regret that for a minute. Of course she didn't.

It wasn't long before Ianto emerged from what Gwen assumed was some sort of kitchen, carrying a tray. Gwen wasn't really much of a coffee drinker, but the scent wafting across from that tray made her mouth water.

"About bloody time," Owen grouched, following Ianto into Jack's office in pursuit of his mug. "I've got caffeine withdrawal." He snatched a mug off the tray and looked across at Gwen. She was sure that the level of antagonism in his eyes had lowered. "He's a bit of a pain," Owen announced. "But his coffee's unforgettable."

Gwen carefully didn't giggle when Ianto rolled his eyes before leaving with his tray tucked under his arm. She examined Owen's comment as she drank her coffee, turning the wording over in her mind. Unforgettable. _That _was an encouraging choice of words, that was. And it was correct, too. The coffee was amazing.

She hadn't reached the bottom of the mug before the cog alarm shrilled again and the final team member made her entrance, hurrying straight to her desk with head down. Gwen wondered if…Toshiko, that was it, had even noticed Gwen's presence in Jack's office. Probably not, given the way she was already scowling at her terminal.

Gwen watched the occupants of the Hub continue to ignore her for a moment or two, then retreated back to her uncomfortable chair after watching Jack vanish into the staircase that led to the medical bay. She'd already dismissed the idea of making a break for it. It would ruin the image she was trying so desperately to craft, and there was no way she could get out of this place without them seeing her, anyway. Not to mention the pterodactyl.

And in her heart of hearts, Gwen didn't really want to leave. At least, not permanently.

-XXX-

Lisa finally picked Ianto's voice out of the clamor of sounds coming from the Hub. She relaxed instantly. He was alive. And she was as sure as she could be that Toshiko was alive, too. Ianto wouldn't be speaking with such calm, otherwise.

Lisa hadn't heard Suzie yet, which raised an annoying possibility. Of course, Lisa hadn't even met Suzie, but something about the woman's voice rang with promise. Lisa frowned as she strained her ears, trying to pick out individual voices from the babble. Jack, of course, damn him. If she could have picked anyone to receive those bullets last night, it would have been Jack, but of course he wouldn't be that obliging. The other man, the doctor, Owen, he was there too. And yes, there were Toshiko's pleasing tones as well. There was another voice too. Naggingly familiar – Lisa was sure she'd heard it before, but still couldn't place it. Another woman. Welsh, like Ianto, but without Ianto's mellow tones. Softer than Suzie, weaker than Suzie, yet not so pleasing to listen to as Toshiko.

Fodder for the converter, then. Lisa looked into the panel shining dully above her head, and silently promised it someone to practice on.

-XXX-

Tosh bit her lip and frowned at her screen. The system wasn't doing what she wanted it to, and that was nearly enough to wipe the rest of her problems out of her head.

Nearly.

Tosh hadn't been able to get back to sleep after Ianto left, and she didn't dare come in too early today. Couldn't risk disrupting the routine of the Hub by getting in before Ianto. The text from Jack was a blessed relief.

On the bright side, the spell of enforced inactivity meant Tosh had finally remembered to delete the contents of her bookshelf from the alien data recorder. Her foot nudged the bag tucked under her desk, reassuring herself of the presence of the artifact nestled within it. She'd have to sneak down to the archives as soon as possible. Maybe even _under_ the archives. She had to face Lisa sometime.

Memories of those bittersweet moments on waking this morning made Tosh's cheeks burn, but she was still too confused to work out which emotion triggered the blush.

Tosh focused on her screen again. Maybe the error message would make more sense after a second cup of coffee, but that would have to wait until Ianto finished masterminding the impossible clean up out on the Plass.

She still didn't know how he'd do it, but Ianto had looked remarkably unruffled as Jack snapped out his orders about removing the bloodstains from the stones of the Plass. Hadn't explained anything, Tosh thought, resentful on Ianto's behalf, just told him to get on with it. As if being brisk and businesslike could cancel out the way Jack stood far too close. And surely he didn't need to touch Ianto's shoulder quite so often. Or his arm. Or….

Tosh pulled her attention back to the screen, where another error message winked its defiance. She hadn't drawn an easy breath since the moment, halfway to the Hub, when her in-car GPS flashed a warning about a red-light camera, and she'd realised there were other cameras she ought to be worry about.

Jack hadn't told anyone about his mysterious ability to survive a bullet in the head. He'd doubtless try to remove the footage of his resurrection. Which meant he might well decide to scan the rest of last night's happenings. Which in turn meant Tosh had to get into the CCTV first and delete the evidence of herself and Ianto in the Hub before Jack saw it.

Except there was no CCTV from last night. Nothing. All gone.

-XXX-

Owen pushed back his chair as Jack made his way noisily into the doctor's domain, feeling his spine protest at the time spent hunched over his screen.

"Can we Retcon her again, or not?" Jack demanded, before he'd even cleared the last step.

Owen rubbed his eyes. "Not," he concluded bluntly. "Well, preferably not."

Jack leaned against a handy cabinet and fixed Owen with the steely gaze that was meant to be intimidating, only Owen knew the tosser too well to fall for it.

"The last dose is still swimming about in her system," Owen continued, deliberately dumbing-down his language in order to irritate Jack. Fair return for the intimidation routine. "She's not dispersing it at the normal rate - no idea why, by the way. But if we give her a top-up there's a distinct risk of helping her build immunity, and given she's broken it once…."

Jack ran his hands through his hair. "What the hell are we gonna do with her, then?"

Owen shrugged, and then stretched, enjoying the way his spine crackled back into place. "This," he gloated, "Is why you're the boss, Jack. You get to decide, and I get to bag you for it."

-XXX-

Tosh's mug clunked down onto her desk. She fought her way back out of the semi-trance complicated hacking attempts always left her in, then fought the impulse to throw herself into Ianto's arms and cry until the tension became bearable.

Even if that stupid moment of weakness on waking hadn't already robbed her of that particular refuge, they couldn't risk much more than a casual smile and her usual 'thank you'. _Not today. Not yet, _Tosh's mind chanted in warning, while Ianto's eyes shot back the same message even while his fingers brushed deliberately against hers as she took her mug. The brief contact felt comforting rather than electric, which was good, reassuring, _normal_. Today, everything had to be painfully normal, until Jack told them that nothing would ever be normal again.

Why hadn't Jack said anything yet, though? Did he really think the rest of them hadn't noticed the empty space where Suzie ought to be? That they hadn't seen the woman who'd somehow become Torchwood's nemesis sitting huddled in his office?

But there was still a mug left on Ianto's tray, and he was taking it _into_ Jack's office, when Jack was quite evidently in the medical bay with Owen. So, no, Jack wasn't hiding the fact that Gwen Cooper was back in the Hub, not if he was sending Ianto in to refill her borrowed mug. Jack was either being mysterious or waiting for someone to crack. Tosh hoped it wasn't _her_ he was waiting for, because right now her cracking point felt uncomfortably close.

Tosh sipped her coffee slowly, while the latest 'file not found' message mocked her from her screen and her stomach roiled. There was no sign of any systems failure, which meant the deletion was deliberate. Had Jack deleted it himself? Had he already seen the footage?

Ianto emerged from Jack's office again, and his tray clattered down onto the nearest desk as two pairs of feet rattled like gunshots up the stairs from the medical bay. Jack, with Owen on his heels. Tosh spun around to face them, breathing deeply in the effort to stop her heart from thumping painfully against her ribs.

Jack stood at the top of the staircase, his eyes raking across the Hub, taking in everyone's position. His gaze paused at Tosh's screen, still flashing its error message, and his lips quirked into a twisted smile which Tosh would have called apologetic, if Jack being apologetic didn't clash so badly with the uneasiness washing through her from head to toe. Even that trace of humor vanished from Jack's face as he reached Suzie's empty desk.

"I know you're wondering what's going on," Jack said, his voice radiating seldom used tones of authority. "All will be explained - _after _you've handed over every piece of tech you've smuggled home."

Heads snapped towards Jack, but only Ianto met his gaze. Of course, Ianto didn't have anything left at _home_ to be guilty about, and he was well practiced at hiding guilt about what he'd smuggled _in_ to the Hub.

Jack eyed them all impassively. "Amnesty expires in thirty minutes," he said. "Ianto, I'll need a secure storage unit."

Ianto vanished in the direction of the archives. Tosh doubted it would take him more than a minute or two to locate a storage unit, which gave him sufficient time for a quick trip to the basement. It seemed unfair to make Ianto face Lisa alone, but Tosh didn't dare follow.

Jack's eyes burned into Tosh's back as she ducked under her desk to retrieve her bag. Oh, the irony. The data recorder would have been safely in the archives already if she hadn't been so worried about the possibility of someone tracing the contents back to her bookshelf. It was only now that she realized how unlikely it was that anyone would ever have made the link.

Jack's gaze transferred to Owen as the medic stalked off in the direction of the staff bathroom. Tosh wondered if he'd actually planned to return the spray, or whether he'd just started storing it in the Hub so he wouldn't have to go home before hitting the bars.

It didn't matter now. Owen nudged Tosh's arm with his own as they exchanged guilty looks, and walked side by side to Jack's office. Owen even stepped back so Tosh could enter first, but she wasn't sure whether he was being a gentleman or just making sure someone else faced the firing squad first.

-XXX-

Gwen watched numbly as the team crowded into Jack's office, struck by the similarities to the first time she'd entered the Hub. No one spoke to her. No one so much as acknowledged her. She wondered if they blamed her for setting this in motion as the knife and the glove that started it all slid into a clear yet solid container to be locked away.

They've no right to blame me, Gwen thought, as first Tosh, then Owen deposited items on Jack's desk with guilt screaming from every curve of their bodies. Gwen remembered Jack telling her that no one was allowed to remove anything from the Hub. Evidently, they'd both broken that rule, so they couldn't blame Gwen for anything, not when they were obviously as curious as she was about the wonders which passed through their hands.

"Conference room," Jack ordered, when Owen had backed away from the desk. "Now."

Gwen stretched cramped limbs and rose to follow as the others filed out of the office. Jack's raised arm stopped her at the door. "I'd rather you stay here, Gwen," he ordered, and it _was_ an order, for all the polite phrasing. "I need to speak with my team."

_His_ team, Gwen thought wistfully, as Jack closed the door behind him. She'd hoped for something more inclusive. 'Our team' was too much to expect, but 'the _rest_ of the team' would have been nice. Even a neutral '_the_ team' would have done something to dispel the uneasiness still coiled tightly within her.

Gwen stayed where she was, resisting the urge to touch the strange piece of coral which was only slightly less compelling than the man whose desk it rested on.

-XXX-

The alacrity with which they'd both handed over their contraband seemed to have settled Jack's ire somewhat. At least, he looked more disappointed than angry as they settled with downcast eyes around the conference table.

Tosh kept her face grave throughout Jack's edited version of last night's disaster, and found herself hiding a smile as Ianto gave a very convincing impression of not knowing who or what had caused the bloodstains on the Plass.

"I'd like you all to remember that Suzie was once a valued member of this team," Jack told them, his expression unutterably sad. "She isn't the first member of Torchwood to fall victim to a piece of tech, and she won't be the last. I can only hope," he continued, with a touch of bitterness, "That what happened to Suzie is enough to convince you to respect the rule about not taking tech out of the Hub, because it could have been any one of you."

Chairs creaked as everyone shifted uneasily in their seats.

"I expect you all to treat Suzie's memory the way you'd want yourself remembered if the tech you'd taken was as intrusive as the piece Suzie chose," Jack concluded.

The words sank deep. Tosh wondered if Ianto was thinking about the victim of alien tech in the basement, as she was, but she didn't dare meet his eyes, and she could tell that Owen's head remained bowed, as well.

Jack gave them a moment for their own thoughts, and then cleared his throat pointedly and continuously until they all looked up.

"Which is why," he continued briskly, "I deleted the CCTV footage of Suzie's last moments. And I apologise, Toshiko," he added, with a slight bow of the head, "But I'm afraid I deleted more than I intended."

"That's why it's all gone," Tosh exclaimed, hoping Jack would read the relief on her face as merely the satisfaction of having her technical problems explained. "All the CCTV from last night is missing" she elaborated, glancing at the others. Beside her, Owen merely nodded absently. Across the table, Ianto's eyes shone with an equal measure of relief.

"Next, the cover up," Jack said, hurrying them along from his slip-up.

Ianto looked up from his notepad. "Sorted," he reported. "Council will be out to clean the Plass around midmorning."

Owen spluttered. "Bloody hell, Teaboy, grow a brain. We've already got one copper on our hands, how many do you think the council's gonna get in if you've got them cleaning up bloodstains?"

Ianto sighed. "They think it's graffiti," he explained.

Jack waved a hand as Owen drew breath for a new tirade. "This is one occasion when economy of speech isn't useful," he said, gaze fixed pointedly on Ianto. "And that isn't taking into account the vowel deprivation."

Ianto looked from one to the other, his expression not unlike a deer in headlights. Tosh knew he hated being the focus of attention and her heart added sympathy to all the other emotions currently twisting it into knots beneath her sternum.

"Cardiff Council is waging a war against graffiti," Ianto began hurriedly, then went on to outline his clean up program, which was brilliant in its simplicity. It required nothing beyond several tins of deep red paint, splashed over and around the affected paving, on the basis that the contractors wouldn't test that all the red stains were in fact the result of deranged graffiti artists. Tosh marveled at Ianto's thoroughness when he explained that he'd gone to the extent of replicating the tags of some local 'artists'.

"You set all this up just this morning?" Jack asked incredulously.

Ianto shook his head, "I've been using the system for a while," he explained, darting nervous glances from Jack to Owen. "Whenever we've had blood spills to deal with. I hope that's OK, Sir. They're too much, and too frequent, to manage by myself."

Jack shook his head. "Of course it's OK," he said. "It's a damned clever idea. Just be careful that the Council doesn't start getting suspicious."

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. "On the contrary, Sir. They're considering nominating the tourism office for a commendation for community awareness."

Owen snickered. "Way to go, Teaboy. Nicely inconspicuous."

Ianto cast a red-faced glance at Jack. "Sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to attract extra attention."

Jack smiled. The first genuine smile Tosh had seen from him that day. "Don't worry about it, Ianto. As transgressions go," he said, with a pointed glance at Owen, "It's a bit less serious than, say, ordering pizzas under the name of Torchwood."

Tosh had no doubt he'd only said it to head off any further comments from Owen, but she couldn't help a jolt of sadness at the banter coming so close on the news of Suzie's death. Not that she was enough of a hypocrite to pretend to mourn the woman she'd never truly liked, but it hurt that the loss of a team member could be so easily brushed past. A slot in the morgue and a few cans of paint. Next….

Owen cleared his throat. "Can we move on to the matter waiting in your office?"

Jack exhaled heavily. All three were looking at him with expectation, but he doubted they'd like his decision. He couldn't kill her, he couldn't imprison her, he couldn't Retcon her…He didn't have many options. And there was something about Gwen….

And just as he had with Ianto, Jack asked himself whether he was about to employ Gwen because of his attraction to her, or in spite of it. But, _un_like his attraction to Ianto, Jack was determined that he'd never pursue it. He liked to think he learned from his own mistakes. Which didn't stop him from making new ones, but that was life for you. And his team was still waiting for a decision.

Jack squared his shoulders, preparing himself for the backlash. They don't have to like it, he reminded himself. They just have to accept it.

"Well," he said, hiding his uncertainty behind his trademark grin. "We do seem to have a job going spare."

**We aren't getting Miracle Day in Australia, not sure if that's a good thing or cruelly unfair. Cheers! **


	40. Chapter 40

**It's been a while, isn't it always? Sorry but I have been working on it, I swear. Thank you all for your patience.**

**This chapter and the next are an interlude between Everything Changes and Day One.  
****We begin in the basement. Suzie is gone, but I've still got one lovely crazy lady to play with….**

* * *

_Something is wrong._

Lisa could tell the instant Ianto entered the basement. His face was paler than usual, and he wasn't quite meeting her eyes. She'd have to go carefully.

_He didn't even try to kiss me. Not that I mind escaping that, but it's suspicious._

"I can't stay long," Ianto said immediately. "I'm only supposed to be retrieving a secure storage container, but there's so much going on up there, I didn't know when I'd have a chance to get down here again. And I knew your nutrients were getting low, and…." The stream of words continued as Ianto bustled around the converter.

_Saying everything he can think of so he doesn't have to tell me….what?_

Not for the first time, Lisa found herself wishing Ianto hadn't ended his arrangement with Jack. It used to give them so much uninterrupted time together. These hurried visits were annoying. Ianto wouldn't be here long enough for Lisa to uncover what he was hiding. That would have to wait, then. As much as she wanted to know what was going on in his disordered human mind, she needed information more.

"I heard gunshots last night," Lisa said, careful to modulate her tone to imply concern. "I'm so relieved it wasn't you, Ianto."

Ianto nodded, a quick jerk of his head, eyes firmly on the converter as he bustled around it. "I thought you might have heard," he agreed. "Another reason I had to get down here." A quick flicker of the eyes towards her, a forced smile. "I'm fine, as you can see."

Lisa decided to take his word for it, or pretend to. Let him think he'd fooled her and he might become less careful. She could learn quite a bit, that way.

"And Toshiko?" Lisa pressed.

"Wasn't her either," Ianto answered, with another twist to his expression Lisa couldn't decipher. "It was Suzie."

_Damn. Why couldn't it be Jack? _

"I'm sorry," Lisa said, with unfeigned sincerity. She'd been convinced Suzie would make a good convert. "How…?"

Ianto shrugged. "She…did it herself," he muttered, before ducking beneath the converter. Lisa heard the scrape of metal as he swapped the nearly empty nutrient container for a fresh one.

"That's a shame," Lisa said, still meaning it. What a waste. A fleeting expression of relief scurried across Ianto's face. Lisa supposed the reference to suicide made him uncomfortable, given what had happened in the early days. _I used to ask him to kill me. How odd. Now I want to live forever. I want to help him live forever, too._

But Ianto still wasn't quite meeting her eyes. Something else, then.

"I don't suppose Dr Tanizaki's gotten back to you yet, has he?" Lisa asked casually. Ianto might be trying to conceal a bad result. In which case, he'd jump at the chance to delay.

"Actually, he did." Ianto ceased the bustling long enough to meet her eyes and smile. It wasn't a fake smile either. The lines on his forehead smoothed out slightly, and there was even some relaxation in the tense muscles around his mouth. Lisa didn't need to hear the rest of the answer to know that wasn't the problem.

"It was good news," Ianto assured her. "The simulations are working much better now. Nearly eighty percent success rate. And there's still time to work on it, so it can only get better."

"That _is_ good," Lisa agreed. And it was. No doubt that remaining twenty percent was what they correctly referred to as the margin for human error. Her eyes wandered to the metal panel over her converter. No one else knew about the wonders concealed behind that panel, but Lisa was confident that the metal arms nestled above her would more than compensate for any amount of human error, once whatever it was that kept the converter from releasing her was corrected.

Ianto hadn't returned to his work on the converter, which meant he'd finished the maintenance and any moment now he'd make an excuse to leave. Time for one last try.

"Ianto," Lisa asked, pitching her voice slightly higher to suggest anxiety. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

Ianto shuddered. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?" he said. "But it isn't something I want to rush through. I'll come back when I can stay longer. OK?" His whole face pleaded for her to agree.

Lisa dipped her chin as far as the converter would allow - her version of a nod - already lost in thought.

"Just power up my reading screen before you go, would you?" she asked absently. She could do it herself, but Lisa wanted the reassurance of seeing Ianto leap to do her bidding.

_If he's concealing something from me, my control over him must be slipping. Can't have that. Not yet. Not while he's so weak. Not until we're equals again._

Ianto checked that the mouse was beneath her fingertips, kissed her forehead – _Much less invasive than the lips. I ought to tell him I like it when he does that. Might spare me the other. _– then left. The click of the lock sliding home ushered in the usual peace. Lisa could screen out the noises from above, if she wanted to. And she did.

There was plenty of fresh material from Tosh's library still to read, but Lisa scrolled back into what used to be her own taste in literature. The romantic drivel had helped her navigate Ianto's emotional storms in the past, but she'd let the knowledge slip away beyond backup, as the useless material it would soon become.

The screen filled with data. There was no movement in the basement except the flicker of text as Lisa settled into her refresher course.

-XXX-

Jack swept out of the conference room, leaving his team-mates gaping.

"He's going to offer her Suzie's job," Tosh said, in disbelief. "He's going to recruit Gwen. Just like that."

It didn't feel right. Suzie was still in the med bay. Suzie wasn't even….. Tosh's thoughts mocked her as the cliche ground to a halt. Cold, yes, but not cold in her grave. Suzie wouldn't have a grave. Torchwood didn't, even if whatever killed them left a body behind. Cold in her drawer? Undoubtedly. No wonder Owen looked so shattered. Suzie was waiting for him in the med bay. At least he wouldn't have to do an autopsy. A bullet through the head didn't leave much doubt as to cause of death.

Tosh's mind buzzed. They _did _need someone. Suzie was gone. Ianto was leaving soon, not that Jack could possibly know that. They'd be two people down then, which made recruitment fairly inevitable. But…like this?

Surely there was more to the Torchwood selection criteria than the ability to stumble across the doorway? Tosh shook her head in an effort to clear it, and then looked to her colleagues for confirmation. No help there. Ianto's face wore its blandest mask. Owen was muttering something under this breath.

"Is he?" she Tosh appealed.

"Out with the old, in with the new," Owen muttered. "Bloody unbelievable. From the first time Cooper spied on us Jack's been acting like he can't wait to get rid of her. I thought at the most she'd end up as eyes and ears in the police. But not this…" Owen snorted. "He could've just done it straight away, if this was what he wanted, but no, not dramatic enough. We dodged her, played her, Retconned her and now – what a bloody waste of time." Owen lurched to his feet, a sudden, jerky lunge, in stark contrast to Jack's graceful exit, and stumbled after their Captain, catching up with him midway through his leisurely progression towards his office.

"I don't friggin' believe you," Owen yelled. "You had us all jumping through hoops for days, dodging her, now you're cutting her a set of keys!"

Jack's voice was calmer; almost entreating, soft enough that the words themselves didn't travel. The hand he tried to lay on Owen's shoulder was shrugged off viciously.

"If you'd done this to begin with, instead of all the cat and mouse crap, Suzie wouldn't have gotten spooked," Owen roared.

Jack shuddered as though the words packed a physical punch. Tosh winced at Ianto across the table. Apart from the sheer unfairness of the comment, Gwen could probably hear every word.

"Great first impression we're making," Tosh said. "Between the fighting and flirting, I wouldn't blame her if she _asks _for more Retcon."

There was a discussion not unlike a pair of spitting cats, then footsteps clattered outside as Owen stormed back into the conference room. Through the glass, Tosh watched Jack straighten his shoulders with what looked like an effort, before reassuming his usual flair and heading onwards. Towards his office. Towards Gwen.

The cog alarm sounded shortly thereafter. Tosh turned to see Gwen following Jack through the exit. Of course, the lift wouldn't be usable yet. Tosh wondered vaguely whether Ianto's cleanup crew would be able to see the stone. She hoped so. She didn't want Ianto to have to clean it himself, but Tosh also knew she couldn't bring herself to offer assistance. Not with that.

"Should've known," Owen grunted, as he sat back down and slurped his cooling coffee. "She's been flirting with him all morning." Owen turned his head to fix Ianto with an accusing stare. "Should've been a give away, that. It's worked before."

Ianto accepted the glare calmly. Too calmly, Tosh thought with an upsurge of concern. Pent up anger simmered behind the placid mask. Ianto had been holding too much back these past twenty-four hours, and it looked very much as though Owen had just offered him an outlet.

Owen snickered, then cast a triumphant glance at Tosh. "He isn't even denying it," the medic gloated. Owen watched with satisfaction as the blood drained from the other man's face, relishing the surge of triumph at having scored one on the Teaboy.

"Stop it, Owen," Tosh muttered. Owen's frown deepened. He'd been burning with anger all morning. Apart from all the turmoil surrounding Suzie's death, he'd had to watch Tosh's eyes follow Ianto around the Hub while the little twerp refused to look at her. And yet, here she was, still defending him. Poor little cow must have it real bad. She'd been watching the little creep with this heartbreaking expression on her face, a mix of hurt and hope. It grated on Owen's nerves, having to see that, yet he couldn't stop looking. Like probing a sore tooth when you're waiting for a dentist appointment, and about as fruitful, too. Damn it all, it wasn't as though he'd _wanted _to witness the Tosh and Ianto Live Happily Ever After story, but Owen couldn't bear the thought of her being cast aside like this, either.

"But Owen, you're living proof that stumbling across Torchwood works," Ianto said in a deceptively casual voice. Owen stiffened in his chair and cast daggers across the table with his eyes. Tosh watched the lines form around Ianto's mouth, and considered throwing herself bodily in between them.

"Jack only recruited _you_ because you didn't succumb to shock and accept the cover stories, like any normal person would have," Ianto said, still in that infuriatingly bland tone. "He'd never have offered you a job if you hadn't remembered him so clearly, in spite of all that counseling Torchwood paid for. But I suppose you already know that, don't you Owen? Or you _would _if you'd ever bother to read your own file."

Owen spluttered. Ianto turned his gaze to Tosh, and for a second she hated both men for putting her in the middle like this.

"Did you realize that Dr Harper here was the inspiration for Retcon?" Ianto asked. "Quite an honor."

"Especially given the comparison," Owen shot back. "I'd much rather inspire something in Jack's mind than in his pants."

Tosh flapped a hand uncomfortably. "Don't be crude, Owen. Jack flirts with _everyone._"

Owen bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. He'd decided long ago that if Tosh didn't know about her… boyfriend, if that's what he was…. having at it with Jack, then he wouldn't be the one to burst her bubble.

Ianto merely blinked at them both. Tosh flinched at the too-casual expression on his face. He was gearing up for something vicious, and she didn't know how to stop it.

"If you haven't been on the receiving end of Jack's flirting, Owen," Ianto said, in his most casual voice. "Then you're quite possibly the only person who _hasn't_. Doesn't say much for your appeal does it?" He paused, while his face twisted into a very passable imitation of Owen's best sneer. "No wonder you needed that spray."

Owen growled, actually growled. Tosh flung herself forward just in time to catch his arm as he launched himself across the table. She'd had more than enough of this.

"Stop it," she shrieked. "Both of you stop this right now."

Both men turned to her almost identical shocked expressions. Mouths hanging open even. Tough. They weren't the only ones who needed some tension released.

"You," Tosh snarled, pointing a finger at Owen. "You've been goading him for long enough that you can hardly complain if he's finally lashing back." Owen gaped at her and subsided back into his seat, where he recommenced the daggers.

"And you," Tosh continued, rounding on Ianto, who shrank back from the sheer fury on her face. "Congratulations on sinking to his level. I hope you're proud of yourself because I'm quite frankly disgusted." And she was, along with disappointed and angry, and if part of that was caused by the way he'd been avoiding her all morning, well, so be it. They'd both been venting, now it was her turn. And damn, it felt _good_.

Both men were watching her, wide-eyed, quite possibly bound in a tacit conspiracy not to enrage her further, which would do nicely, given how unlikely they were to bond over anything else.

"You're acting like children," Tosh spat, now that she had their full attention. "Worse. It's pathetic. I'm ashamed of you both." At which she realised she wasn't doing much better and forcibly lowered the volume of her voice. "Everyone's stressed today," Tosh said more calmly, adding a wry grin as she accepted that included herself. "But it won't help taking it out on each other."

The men were avoiding her eyes now, but still glaring at each across the table. Tosh sighed again. Actually, this was beyond pathetic. It was downright ridiculous. Two grown men casting dirty looks at each other like schoolboys in detention. Which made _her _the teacher.

An odd feeling grew in the corners of Tosh's mouth. A twitch with the potential to grow into a smile. And the two boys – they definitely weren't men, not right now – she'd just scolded were both sporting sheepish grins, as well.

The lightening of the atmosphere was too much of a relief not to go with it, and the next words were out of Tosh's mouth before she had a chance to consider how unlike her they sounded.

"The only reason I haven't turned the pair of you over my knee is you'd probably enjoy it," Tosh concluded. She might have been channeling Suzie, but it worked, even if only from the shock value. Besides, there was a gratifying sense of power to be had from knowing she'd calmed this particular storm.

Ianto's eyes tried to twinkle at her. "Sorry, Mam," he said gravely.

Owen grunted. "Tough morning," he announced, unbending enough to nod at Ianto, which was as close to an apology as Owen ever gave. He rose stiffly to his feet. "I should go….see to Suzie."

"I've already laid out a gown in the med bay," Ianto said quietly, to the departing doctor's back.

Owen didn't turn, but he waved a hand in acknowledgement and moments later the staircase to the med bay creaked as he descended.

Tosh passed a weary hand over her forehead. "They were together for a while," she said, partly for something to say, because since this morning, she and Ianto apparently didn't do comfortable silence anymore; and partly to justify Owen's behavior – and honestly, _why _did she keep doing that? Tosh hated the way she was analyzing every comment to Ianto, too. This was wrong. So wrong.

"I suppose grief comes out in all sorts of ways," Ianto mumbled. Tosh watched him from under her lashes, wondering whether this morning was flashing through his head as vividly as it was through hers. Grief. Shock. She supposed that explained it. She wondered if they'd ever explain it to each other, or if they'd spend the next weeks being awkward. After which she'd take that dose of Retcon, so she wouldn't be feeling uncomfortable any more because she wouldn't remember it had ever happened. If that was the silver lining she'd been looking for, it was a crappy one.

The cog squealed again. Jack strode back in, with a bounce in his step and a grin all over his face. "She's in," he called. "As soon as we can manage it."

Tosh raised a hand in acknowledgement. Jack waved back, before heading with a slower step for the medical bay.

"It would appear I have a transfer to organize," Ianto commented. "From Heddlu to Special Ops, wouldn't you say?" He rose, somewhat lacking in his usual grace, and circled the boardroom table, collecting random litter and coffee mugs as he went.

Tosh nodded absently. "I suppose I should be out there building a workstation for her. For Gwen." She paused, swallowed. "A new one. Not Suzie's."

Ianto nodded. "I'll put Suzie's gear into storage then, shall I?"

"Yes please," Tosh agreed, staring fixedly at the notepad on the table before her as she tried to think of something to say. Something to clear the air between them. Something that would salvage the last weeks with the best friend she'd ever had.

But really, what could they say, either of them, especially given the prospect that Owen could get bored – or suspicious that they were carrying on the Owen-bashing in his absence – and log into the CCTV to find out what was said after he left the boardroom?

The silence grew tense again. Ianto swapped the laden tray from one hip to the other.

"Have you finished with that mug?" he asked.

Tosh unlocked the fingers curled white-knuckled around the handle and placed her empty mug on his tray. "I'm done," she agreed and tried to feel a grain of pride in the fact that she didn't watch him leave the boardroom.

-XXX-

"Are you over your hissy fit yet?" Jack asked brightly, then cursed himself into silence and descended the remaining steps into the medical bay at a slower pace.

Suzie lay on the metal table, already clad in the customary white gown, skin clean and pale again. Owen had even cleaned her hair, and was currently arranging it to cover the damage she'd done to herself. His hands froze at Jack's voice.

"We failed her," Owen said. He'd stripped off his gloves, but he hadn't turned around yet.

Jack didn't argue. It was true. They had. Professionally and personally. So many opportunities they'd had to step in. As boss, doctor, mentor, colleague, friend, lover. Yet neither one of them had tried to help, or even noticed how badly help was needed. Yes, they'd failed her. Both of them.

"And it's not even been a day, and you're filling her desk," Owen continued bitterly.

Jack sighed heavily, and tried again. "Would it have been easier tomorrow?" he demanded. "Or next week? When does it get easy, Owen? When does it become right?"

Owen swiveled slowly until they were face to face.

"We'd have managed," he muttered.

Jack shook his head. "We're stretched too thin already, and you know it," he insisted. "We need someone in the field. Someone who doesn't have any other role _but _the field. Someone who….who's not so out of touch with the real world as the rest of us."

It was Owen who didn't bother arguing that time. He had to admit that if they hadn't been so far from normal themselves, they'd be more likely to register that Suzie was going off the rails rather than just being excessively Torchwood.

Owen raised red-tinged eyes which Jack was careful not to comment on. "You did think it through, then," he said grudgingly.

"Since the second I saw her wandering around on the Plass," Jack agreed. "Since the second I saw Suzie there, too. And damn it, Owen, we had to do _something _with Gwen. She wasn't going to give up."

"It's pretty bloody obvious what you want to do with her," Owen said with heavy sarcasm.

Jack gave a ghost of his usual grin. This was more like it. This, he could handle. "Not if you get there first," he parried. After all, he hadn't been the only one responding to Gwen's flirting.

"No, we are not going to put money on it," Owen sniffed. "Now rack off and let me finish with Suzie. And tell Ianto to get her drawer ready, would you?"

Jack's smiled faded before it had a chance to properly settle on his face. If he'd needed any reminder of the gravity of today, then Owen declining to use his sarcastic nickname was more than sufficient.

-XXX-

Tosh was under a spare desk, attaching cables to what would be Gwen's workstation, when a grating noise rendered the Hub silent.

It shouldn't have. It was a sound they usually heard at least daily. The sound of Owen sending a body from the medical bay to the morgue.

But it was different today. Today, Ianto was already in the morgue, waiting to receive it. Today, Jack left whatever he was doing in his office to stand above the medical bay in a habitual pose which always made Tosh suspect the 'Captain' was more than an affectation.

Maybe the sound of the gears wasn't any louder than usual. Maybe it only seemed that way because of the unnatural quiet which accompanied it. Even Myfanwy was silent. Tosh wondered whether Ianto had bribed her with chocolate.

The rattle gained momentum. Tosh levered her way out from under the desk and went to stand beside Jack, immeasurably comforted by the large hand that moved to enclose her own.

She'd never liked Suzie, Tosh reminded herself, as her eyes burned. But still, she remembered the comforting presence in her spare room on a night when Torchwood was too much. She remembered the patience and encouragement while learning her way through the Torchwood armory. Remembered smiling across the interior of a luxury car when they'd been summoned from an alert and the 'boys' needed the SUV. Glimpses of someone she _would _have liked, if not for that glove.

The gears quieted. There was no Last Post, but the Rift Alert more than sufficed. Tosh was grateful for the excuse to leave Jack's side, because she was remembering other things now. The never-ending put-downs. The gloating expression in Suzie's eyes as Owen turned from Tosh mid-sentence at Suzie's call. The same eyes glittering as Suzie crouched behind the latest victim. Tosh had found that tasteless _then_, let alone now that she was truly able to understand the horror.

Tosh blinked away her tears and concentrated on the display. "Two life signs," she reported. "Something inanimate, too. Probably their craft."

"Location?" Jack asked.

"Splott," Tosh reported, hands flying over keys.

Jack ducked his head. "Where else," he muttered.

"Appears to be a council playground," Tosh continued.

Jack said something under his breath. Tosh managed a smile. "It could be worse," she said, "It's good timing. School hours now, but too early for the preschool mums."

Jack listened absently, wondering how Tosh knew all that stuff, hoping Gwen would be up on it, too. Did Gwen have children? Ianto probably would have mentioned that when he'd done the initial background check, but Jack wished he'd made sure before he offered her a position. Parenthood and Torchwood were a bad mix.

"So either the playground will be deserted, or any kids playing hooky will run off and never tell anyone – well, no adults at least - what they saw for fear of getting into trouble," Tosh concluded.

"Good," Jack approved, hoping she was right. He cupped a hand around his mouth and bellowed. "Owen! With me," before turning back to Tosh, eyebrows raised enquiringly. "You want to come along?" he offered. Owen was a given inclusion on any calls involving life signs, given the likelihood of injury, and this wasn't a big enough event to require the whole team. Or, Jack corrected himself, the team minus one, which would be plus one again as soon as Gwen's transfer was approved.

Toshiko hadn't mentioned any significant tech readings, so they probably didn't need her, as such. And he'd already decided that Gwen would be a field agent, so Tosh would have to get used to spending more time in the Hub. But the Rift had been quiet the past couple of days – thankfully, given the internal dramas. Tosh was probably itching to get out of the Hub, so Jack was quietly impressed with himself for giving her the option. It was this sort of thing, he congratulated himself, that hadn't given enough thought to in the past. At least he was learning from his mistakes.

"I think I'll finish getting Gwen's workstation sorted, if you don't mind," Tosh answered, keeping her eyes down.

Jack nodded, trying to ignore the sudden bitter taste in his mouth as he acknowledged that, after the stress of the morning, Tosh might well want to forgo the field if it meant she could spend time alone with Ianto. Her Ianto, not his.

* * *

**I know that was terribly depressing, wasn't it? I'm building hooks for later plotty things. Most of the next chapter is already written, so it might actually arrive in a reasonable timeframe. **

**As always, thanks for reading.**


	41. Chapter 41

**This doesn't go quite as far as I'd planned, so there'll be another chapter to complete the bridge between Everything Changes and Day One. Thank you for your patience, everyone, especially to all those who took the time to give me a prod. See, they work!**

* * *

The text racing across the screen slowed, paused, flickered. Stopped.

Lisa couldn't help asking herself how she'd ever found this interesting. Drivel. Love. Romance.

_Aching hearts. Rubbish. Hearts don't ache, don't break. They beat until they wear out. Or until you're upgraded to a metal one_.

That was something to work toward. A proper upgrade. Lisa let her eyes drift across the flesh clinging to her metal body.

_Oh, to be rid of it. To be clean, and pure, and perfect._

Eventually, perhaps. Later. Much later. After she was free, after they were strong enough to take power. Lisa let her mind drift, planning for that shining future. Eventually, others would come. From other worlds, already perfect, and she could hand them _this_ world.

Perhaps as her reward she'd get that full upgrade. Surely they wouldn't want to lose this mind? Toshiko, too. Maybe even Ianto, though Lisa had to admit that was debatable. He was weak enough to bow to her every whim; maybe he wouldn't be considered worthy of an upgrade. On the plus side, he could be very logical and organized, and would only be more so after his emotional side was dealt with.

He hadn't shown many signs of weakness today. Refusing to tell her what was on his mind was a sign of defiance, a warning that her control might be slipping. Hence the re-immersion in this literary cesspit.

Which hadn't been a complete waste of time, given she now had a likely explanation for Ianto's skittish behavior this morning. Guilt.

And what did he have to feel guilty about? Well, nothing really. Except what he'd always felt guilty about it in the past. Especially given he'd promised his liaison with Jack was over.

Guilt was fixable. Especially guilt about _that_. Lisa knew what to say, she knew how to say it, and it would end with Ianto more deeply besotted with her than he was now.

Absolution, the books said, was a heady drug. Useful fact, that.

_Just as well it wasn't Jack who was shot last night, after all. He still has his uses. Besides, this way I get to delete him myself._

-XXX-

The SUV circled the graffiti-decorated playground until Owen's sharp eyes caught the thread of smoke curling from what proved to be the impact crater. If not for that escaping wisp, it would have been difficult to pick it out from amongst the other holes in the rectangular expanse of tarmac which Jack assumed was meant to be a basketball court, given that the twisted remains of a hoop now lay across the crater.

"Nasty," Owen commented. "Took the ring out on their way through."

"We can hope it softened the impact," Jack said optimistically, while backing the SUV into the least-damaged spot in the adjoining car-park. "And the cover up will be a breeze. We can mark this down to vandalism, no problem. Might even get more points with the council for reporting it."

"Why am I not surprised that the first thing out of your mouth is how much easier this will make Teaboy's life?" Owen snarked. He slid out of the passenger seat and by the time Jack joined him at the rear of the SUV, he was already pawing through the medical gear.

"I've said it before, Harkness," Owen continued, heaping equipment into Jack's waiting arms. "You've got a sick and sorry obsession with that one, and you ought to get over it. It's making you behave irrationally. Say what you like about your motives for offering doe-eyes a job, I'm still going with the theory you just want to be able to close your eyes and pretend it's him doting on you instead."

Jack was about to retort that knowing who Toshiko had spent the night with had hardly produced a sunny disposition in the medic either, when a high-pitched keen shattered the silence of the deserted playground. Owen cursed loudly and sprinted towards the crater. Jack's instinctive grab at the fleeing medic missed, at which he swore in his turn, saw the pincer-like arms gripping the edge of the crater, then sprang to follow.

-XXX-

Ianto emerged back into the main Hub after the sound of the cog alarm died away. Tosh nearly smiled at his expression of surprise as he registered that she hadn't gone with the rest of the team.

"No significant tech readings," Tosh said by way of explanation. She jerked her chin towards the nearly-completed workstation, while her hands busily configured the keyboard. "And I wanted to get this finished." She paused, swallowed. "I'll be here if they need anything, so that leaves you free to….to…." The tourism office wasn't going to open today, not with the clean-up crew disrupting access to the Plass. He could spend as much time as he wanted with Lisa, knowing Tosh would call him when the others headed back. "Catch up," she finished, lamely. _But catch up with me first?_ she added silently. _Please?_

Ianto nodded. "Thanks, I'll be in the Archives, then." But he didn't make a move to depart, instead shuffling closer to where she sat, sending quite desperate eye-messages from beneath half-lowered lids.

"Is there…ah….anything I can help with?" Tosh asked hopefully. There were several 'dead' spots in the Archives were they could speak freely. Maybe he'd even let her see Lisa with him.

"We've…..um….that is,_ I've_ had an update you might be interested in," Ianto said, with terrible awkwardness.

Tosh looked up sharply, torn between relief that he was talking to her at all and frustration that she wasn't at her own desk, where she could at least mute microphone and save them both the aggravation of speaking in code.

"On that project you've helped me with," Ianto added.

Tosh nodded, summoning her best bland expression to cover the turmoil within. He must have heard back from Dr Tanizaki about the simulations.

"Positive figures, I hope," she said, trying her best to sound indifferent.

"Well, yes, actually," Ianto answered, and there was a smile on his mouth, if not in his eyes. "Given the new parameters, the ..er…system….is now running at eighty percent," he continued. "Well, seventy-eight point six."

"That's encouraging," Tosh agreed. Which it was. And a relief. A high enough success rate to make it worth Dr Tanizaki's while coming over, at least. Tosh wished she could bring herself to sound more enthusiastic, though. To_ feel_ more enthusiastic. This was Lisa's life they were discussing so awkwardly. Lisa's life. Lisa's freedom, which meant Ianto's freedom too. Which meant he'd be leaving in – just over two weeks, now.

And of course these results were what he wanted to talk to her about. Naturally Lisa's welfare was more important to Ianto than what had or hadn't happened between them in a moment of weakness. Priorities, Sato, priorities.

Ianto nodded. "Good news, for a change," he said, shifting from foot to foot, obviously anxious to escape now he'd delivered his news, and how could she blame him for wanting to steal some time with Lisa?

"Have you….um…passed that on yet?" Tosh asked, and yes, she _was_ trying to stop him leaving, regardless.

Ianto nodded. "Just that, though," he confessed. "But…I have to….include the other event…..it's been…..er….noticed."

The butler mask didn't hide the misery in his eyes. Tosh nodded, flushing with guilt as she remembered her earlier plea for Ianto to keep their aborted encounter a secret from Lisa. That was ridiculous. They had a new life to build, Ianto and Lisa, and it would be complicated enough without starting from deception.

"Maybe I should handle that," Tosh offered. If Lisa was going to be upset, and who could blame her, it would be better if she vented it on Tosh, first. Let Tosh be the one having to recalibrate the respirator if Lisa got upset enough to disrupt her breathing.

Ianto smiled, and this time it did touch his eyes, however briefly. "I'll manage," he insisted. "But thanks." This time he did leave.

Tosh crawled back under Gwen's desk and told herself she had no right to be upset that Ianto was more worried about mending fences with Lisa than he was with her.

-XXX-

Lisa's eyes widened as she hurriedly processed the new development.

"Toshiko," she repeated. "You….with _Tosh?"_ Her bewilderment wasn't feigned. This didn't make sense. One of the things Lisa admired about Tosh was her lack of enthusiasm for the baser of fleshly desires. Tosh wouldn't…..willingly…

A very disturbing possibility entered Lisa's mind. If Ianto had done anything to lose Tosh's loyalty, Lisa wouldn't have to _pretend _to be angry.

"You didn't force her into anything, did you?" Lisa demanded, too panicked to be diplomatic.

Ianto merely stared back at her. He was suddenly very still, a stillness which made Lisa realize how much he normally moved, those aimless, twitchy movements that were only noticeable by their absence.

_I really should take the time to be diplomatic. __**He's**__ angry, now. I preferred guilty. Guilty is better than angry, for my purposes anyway._

"How can you even ask that?" he said, so softly Lisa had to engage her enhanced hearing. His eyes glittered. Tears, Lisa assumed, only he wasn't letting them spill.

Lisa forced herself to be silent while she sorted through the chaos in her mind. Of course Ianto wouldn't do that. Especially not to Tosh. So Tosh must have been willing. But really, if Tosh was ready to start exploring that nonsense again, why didn't she turn to that medic she was always sighing about? Why try to take _her _Ianto?

It shouldn't make that much difference, Lisa assured herself. She'd been prepared to hear that Ianto had succumbed to his own urges and Jack's supposed charms. It shouldn't matter who he'd turned to instead, but it did.

It did if it was Tosh.

Lisa accepted that Toshiko catered for Ianto's emotional needs, in a way she was no longer equipped for herself, but Lisa didn't want Tosh to satisfy his physical ones as well. If Ianto had all of his needs managed by someone else – the_ same_ someone else – what would he need Lisa for?

Lisa was well aware that Ianto's obsession with her was all that stood between freedom and oblivion.

If Toshiko gave Ianto everything he needed, he wouldn't need Lisa anymore. She'd be a burden, an obstacle between him and Toshiko.

_He'll probably even manage to convince himself it's an act of mercy when he flicks the switches._

Lisa's heart-rate accelerated. The converter's alarm pinged softly as it set about adjusting the imbalance of adrenaline. She could see the concern on Ianto's face as he leaned forward to check the readings, watching intently until they settled. No major damage done then, if he was still so concerned about her.

Still, best to be sure. Dramatics seemed to be in order. Lisa had to pull his loyalty back, and if it took guilt, well, so be it.

"It's a bit pathetic, isn't it?" Lisa said, into the silence, adjusting her vocal equipment to make her voice rough and hoping the sniffle sounded authentic. She hadn't practiced sniffles. "I'd rather hear you'd hurt Tosh, than find you're falling for her instead of me."

Ianto's frown cleared. He leaned forward and grasped her hand. "Nothing happened," he insisted. "I didn't even kiss her, Lisa, I swear."

Lisa frowned. The confession, and the actions spurred by it now made _less_ than no sense. But she couldn't just let it go. She had to understand, so she could head it off in the future. "Why not?" she asked. "You obviously wanted to."

"Because!" Ianto released her hand and waved his arms wildly above her face. Terribly uncontrolled. Very unlike him.

"It's….God, it's worse than Jack, Lisa," Ianto spluttered, his usually cultivated voice shattering from the stress. "That was _for _you, in however twisted a way. This…Tosh…it would have been betraying you both."

Lisa's mouth worked silently as she tried to decide what to say. She couldn't risk any more uncontrolled outbursts. 'Pull yourself together' was what she _wanted_ to say, and conveyed every nuance she wanted to communicate - but it wouldn't achieve the goal of calming Ianto, so she_ didn't_ say it, which was probably a wise decision. Only to realize, too late, that her silence gave Ianto license to think the worst. The tears in his eyes were starting to spill over. It was quite fascinating, the way they sparkled. The moisture on the walls never did that. Maybe it was something to do with the salt content.

Lisa dragged her focus back as the tears began to flow. Ianto needed reassurance, and quickly. If Ianto progressed to the sobbing stage, there was no telling long it would be before she got any sense out of him.

"I suppose I can understand why you might think you've betrayed me," Lisa said, somewhat hastily. "Not that you have." That elicited a tiny, crooked smile. Encouraged, Lisa continued. "But why do you think you've betrayed Toshiko?"

Ianto gaped at her. "Because she….I…."

The morning spent wading through drivel was suddenly worth every second of effort. Information merged in Lisa's mind, and she knew exactly what to say. And how.

"Were tempted, and didn't go through with it," Lisa finished.

Ianto's tears stopped and he squeezed her hand. Progress.

"I ought to be commending you on your restraint," Lisa continued. "Instead of being angry," and here she paused, arranging her mouth into its own crooked smile. "Or jealous."

Ianto's eyes widened, brightened. And he smiled.

Lisa nearly sighed with relief. She _was_ on the right track, then. Forgiveness. Understanding. Not that she understood, not any more. Physical needs were a distant memory, emotional ones more-so. But as long as she could keep Ianto fooled, none of that mattered.

Relief made her careless. Made her voice her thoughts. Again.

"After all, you're only human."

-XXX-

"I thought you said _two _life signs," Owen huffed, "This one's dead." He peeled his gloves off, dropped them beside the motionless body, then slid a new pair on as he faced the other. His stethoscope scurried lightly along what they were calling a chest, but was more properly a thorax, as it rose and fell with rapid, shuddering movements.

Jack forbore to comment that the other insectoid_ was_ alive when they'd helped it from the crater. Nor did he show any reaction to Owen's outwardly callous demeanor, because the words were in complete contrast to the almost reverent manner in which Owen handled the deceased alien as he confirmed the lack of life signs.

Jack knew this was Owen's way of coping with the fact that if he'd gotten there faster…..if he knew more about alien resuscitation….

If they'd arrived before one of the aliens plunged that knife into what they were assuming was its gut.

At least the second alien was still alive, if only barely. If they were right in their supposition that the silver contraption on its head really was life support, it might even have a chance of surviving, assuming Owen could decipher its physiology in time to do it any good.

Sometimes Jack completely understood why Owen drank so much, which didn't stop him from being annoyed by the hangovers.

Jack left Owen battling mortality on his patient's behalf and shifted over to deal with the corpse. He crouched beside the body, running a reverent if curious hand over the chitin-plated torso. It was vaguely reminiscent of a cricket in build, with two muscular legs and four smaller limbs which might or might not take the use of hands. This one was a waxy off-white now, in stark contrast to its predominantly bright green companion, whom Owen was currently swearing over – or at. Jack assumed the colors infusing the still-living body came from whatever these beings used for a circulatory system.

Jack transferred the creature to the body bag, a task complicated by the rigid carapace and sticklike limbs. He hesitated over the dagger-like object still standing upright in the creature's chest – sorry, thorax - then decided he'd never get the bag closed if he left it there and wrapped a hand around the hilt.

"Protective gear first, you twat," Owen snapped, throwing a thick pair of gloves at Jack without even turning around. "Just 'cause it looks like an insect doesn't mean it _is_ one. The blood could be acidic, for all we know. Show some sense, Harkness."

Jack didn't bite, but he did have to conceal a smile. Owen hated being caught out being protective of his team members. Jack drew on the gloves, then the mask which hit him in the back shortly after, before taking a fresh grip on the dagger and pulling it free.

A viscous green fluid seeped from the wound. "Insect blood," Jack announced, with no small amount of triumph.

"If you can tell these things just by looking, why the hell do I waste so much time doing pathology?" Owen grouched. "Get me a sample before it all leaks out."

This time it was a glass vial which spun through the air. Jack considered letting it fall, just on principle. Owen shouldn't be throwing tools around an impact site. But he always had and someone always caught what was thrown, so why start making a fuss now? Jack caught the vial with one hand while using the other to slide the dagger into a bag. He filled the vial carefully and stowed it away.

"Do you suppose it killed itself?" Jack asked, fighting a sense of annoyance that he couldn't even dignify the deceased being with a 'he' or 'she'.

"If it had human limbs, I'd say the angle was wrong," Owen answered. "_C'mon you silly bugger, keep breathing and I'll buy you some nice beetles to munch on_ – But given the way these fellas arms are put together, anything's possible."

"How's the other one doing?" Jack asked. He'd done all he could for the fallen, so he joined Owen beside the still-breathing form laid out on the grass behind him. It didn't look hopeful. The green flush beneath the rigid outer carapace had faded even since Jack's last glimpse.

"Still signs of respiration," Owen reported. "Slowing, though, dammit. Heartbeat – if that _is _a heartbeat, rapid, but given that I don't know what's normal for…..whatever the hell this is, anyway…." He broke off and recommenced the survey with his stethoscope.

"I'll send Tosh a picture, see if she can find anything similar on the database," Jack decided.

Owen merely shrugged. "Like she'll find anything in time to make a difference," he muttered. "Assuming she's stayed out of the Archives to take the call."

"Tosh isn't that unprofessional," Jack snapped, feeling smug when his phone chimed in response only moments later. "It's classified as a Gryllidae," he reported. "No live specimens on record."

"Specimens," Owen scoffed. "And that can't be their real name, it's an Earth classification."

"Old Torchwood," Jack answered. He leaned forward and ran a curious hand over the metal frame on the alien's cranium. "_Is_ it life support, do you think?" he asked Owen.

"If it is, it's doing a shite job," Owen said, practically growling in frustration. "Heart rate's still accelerating. I've no idea whether I should try to slow it down or speed it up."

The medic sat back on his heels for a moment, surveying the rapidly paling form. "Buggered if I have any idea what to do for it," he confessed. "Apart from sit here and watch it die, of course."

"Which is better than nothing," Jack answered. "If that's all we can do, then it's _what_ we'll do." He resisted the impulse to place a comforting hand on the doctor's shoulder. Owen hated being caught out in compassion, too.

"Do you think the other one killed himself?" Jack mused. Owen was using 'fella,' so he might as well go with it. "So this one could take the life support?"

"That, or this guy killed the first one so he could _take _the life support," Owen answered. "If that's what it is, of course." He pulled off his green-smeared gloves and rubbed a hand through his hair before donning a clean pair. "In either case, they must have felt pretty damned stupid when we rolled up just after."

"What else could it be?" Jack queried impatiently. "What else would they have fought – or sacrificed – for?"

They watched the creature's labored breathing, watched the color beneath the carapace dim from grass-green to yellow, both of them contemplating the futility of a sacrifice that had only delayed the inevitable.

Jack found himself wondering whether Owen also shared his sudden realization that Suzie had done exactly the same thing.

-XXX-

Lisa's mind could work very fast now. So, even as she cursed herself for her carelessness, she was busy retuning her strategy. It could still work. It _would _still work. She just had to direct Ianto away from Tosh and towards a less dangerous prospect.

"And you're a human male, at that," Lisa added hurriedly, forcing her mouth into smile, showing a glimpse of teeth, inviting him to share the joke. "In your twenties, too."

It worked. Of course it worked. The biggest factor in her favor was that Ianto wanted to believe in her. His mouth curved, his eyes lit. "Blame my hormones; is that what you're saying?"

Lisa's return smile felt quite natural. Fuelled by triumph rather than whatever he was expecting her to feel, but what did that matter?

"Well, yes," Lisa agreed. "I do remember what it feels like, you know." A lie, of course. She didn't remember how _anything_ felt. Actually, she found it hard to believe she'd ever enjoyed – that. If the feel of her own flesh was repugnant, the idea of wanting someone else's flesh pressed to hers, worse,_ inserted_ into hers…..well, it was just incomprehensible.

But Ianto was still a slave to his hormones. Which meant they both were, until Lisa was free, and able to free him as well. In the meantime, those very hormones were obviously unbalancing the rest of him. Lisa understood hormonal imbalances, to an extent. Her converter took care of them, and would do until she was purged of this excess flesh. Ianto would have to take care of his in a more….biological way. One which – or who - didn't satisfy his emotional needs. Lisa knew the perfect person, and Ianto did too, if only he'd acknowledge it.

"But I can't give you that now, and I'm not selfish enough to expect you to be celibate," Lisa said, speaking quickly, to imply that she was uncomfortable with the statement. And to think she'd regretted reading up on this nonsense! She closed her eyes, hoping Ianto would think she was holding back tears. One of the heroines in the books did that. It was supposed to imply bravery in the face of heartbreak.

"Only," Lisa finished, letting her voice become breathy. "Not Toshiko, please." Let him think she was jealous, so he'd choose someone she didn't need to be jealous about.

Ianto's hand closed around her fingers. "I love_ you_," he insisted. "Only you."

Lisa opened her eyes, careful to blink several times to give the impression she was dealing with tears, and arranged her face into what she hoped was a brave smile.

"I know," she said, dredging for the soothing tone again. "I know, Ianto. And I'm so glad."

_Well, at least that's true. He'd never be doing all this otherwise._

Somewhat later, after Lisa thought she might literally choke from all the kissing, Ianto's comm. device shrilled.

He looked down at her, biting his lip, apologizing with all but words. "Tosh needs me to dig something out of the Archives," he explained. "I'd better go."

He was nearly through the door when Lisa realised there was something else she had to fix. Some_one_ else. "Ianto?"

He turned back, looking at her with a quite adoring expression which would have been sickening if it wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for.

"Does Toshiko think I'm angry with her, too?"

Ianto shuffled his feet. Lisa took that as an affirmative.

_I can't afford to have Tosh upset with me. She must remain loyal. I need her. Need her knowledge. Need her brain._

"Maybe she should visit me," Lisa suggested.

Ianto gave her a blinding smile. His departing footsteps didn't echo as loudly as normal. Lisa supposed that was what they meant by a light step.

Lisa slumped into the embrace of the converter as soon as the door closed, relishing the rush of the opiates that numbed the pain from the frail human nerves, lulled by the sound of the pistons pumping as the converter adressed the chaos this annoying encounter with Ianto had created.

She was safe. Well, relatively. Ianto wouldn't turn from her to Tosh now. And with a little more prodding, he'd be on the path Lisa had decided was best. Safest. For her, of course.

_The best for all of us. The path to the new world. Damned shame we'll have to go through Jack to get it. But then, what else is he good for?_

_Just as well he didn't take that bullet last night, after all. _

_And this way I still get to delete him myself._

-XXX-

Ianto's voice sounded normal when Tosh spoke to him on the comms. He must have sorted things with Lisa, then. Tosh bit her lip for a moment then decided she absolutely had to speak to him before the others came back.

Ianto saw Tosh waiting for him when he entered the Archives, and restrained a sigh with effort. He hadn't quite sorted through what had just happened with Lisa, and he wasn't ready for another angst-ridden encounter. Especially since he still wasn't sure whether Toshiko was upset with him because of what he'd done, or what he hadn't.

"I need whatever information we've got on Gryllidae," Tosh announced. "The database is sketchy, so I thought it would be worth seeing if you've got anything more down here." She tossed her Bluetooth onto Ianto's desk, quite pointedly, and then vanished between the towering shelves without another word.

Ianto shook his head. Women. At least he'd never been confused about what Jack wanted from him.

That thought alone was enough to have Ianto groping for a chair as he trailed Tosh into that space at the end of the third rack where the stored alien power sources had fried so many cameras they'd stopped replacing them.

Tosh watched Ianto slump into the chair he'd brought. He hadn't seemed to even notice she was still standing. Poor boy was terribly frazzled, which perversely made Tosh feel much better about the whole day. Feeling suddenly generous, she gave Ianto a moment to gather his thoughts while she backtracked to find a chair for herself.

"Right," Tosh said, settling herself across from him. "Now spill."

Ianto shifted restlessly. It occurred to him that the women in his life were being a bit demanding today. And that he kind of liked it.

"She forgave me," Ianto said. His smile looked natural, if slightly awkward. "She blames it on twenty-something hormones," he added, blushing the tiniest bit as he did so.

Tosh couldn't help smiling, too. That sounded like the Lisa she'd first met. The one who clearly adored the young man who risked so much for her. The girl who'd not only forgiven him anything but done her best to alleviate the guilt as well.

"Does she forgive me, too?" Tosh asked. A bit selfish, but she couldn't help it.

Ianto smiled again. A real smile, if only a little one. "She doesn't think there's anything to forgive. She wants you to visit her." Ianto released a tiny laugh. One of the nervous sort. "Probably wants to check you're all right. She pretty much accused me of taking advantage of you, actually."

Tosh's eyes widened. "But you didn't," she protested, surprised into openness. "Or…at the very least, we would have been taking advantage of each other."

The laughter was more genuine now, from both of them.

When it subsided, Ianto leaned back in his chair, blue eyes grave. "It_ would_ have been a mistake, though, wouldn't it?"

Tosh nodded. "All the wrong reasons," she agreed. She wasn't sure what _his_ reasons were, and maybe she never would be. But for herself, Tosh knew it wasn't desire that had kept the protests behind her lips until the last second. She'd wanted Ianto to 'fix' her. To repair the damage to her heart and soul that had so long ago vanished from her body. And it was time, Tosh concluded to herself, to stop looking for someone _else_ to fix her and start working on healing herself. Surely she could be attracted to someone who didn't work for Torchwood?

They spent a quiet while hunting for information on the Gryllidae, not coming up with very much, beyond a note in archaic writing regarding high blood pressure. It might be accurate, in which case Tosh didn't want to think about how 'old' Torchwood tested that. Or it could simply be one of the arrogant comparisons which assumed human readings were 'normal' and therefore consigned anything above or below that as abnormal.

"Not much use," Ianto concluded.

Tosh pushed the hair back from her eyes. "Better than nothing," she said. "Owen was still trying to save one when they called. Maybe this will help." Tosh left Ianto to continue the search while she retrieved her Bluetooth and contacted Owen.

She returned with a solemn face. "It didn't survive," she told him. "They're on their way back, with two deceased aliens and an interesting piece of tech."

"Work for both of us, then," Ianto commented. "I'd better sort out some space in the morgue."

The trundled back up to the Hub in silence. But it was a comfortable silence, and Tosh reveled in it.

* * *

**I'm sure you've already worked out what the artifact is. It will be useful later. Thanks for reading.**


	42. Chapter 42

_I won't spout excuses for the delay in updates - you don't want to know, I'm sure. I submit a ridiculously long chapter in apology and thank you for your patience. __This is the final bridge before Day One. If any future chapters have you scratching your head, refer back to 40-42 wherein lie the basis for all the 'what the' moments I have planned for the rest of this fic._ Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The reading screen reflected its cold blue light back onto the dim orange glow of the emergency lighting. The very air in the basement looked muddy, confused. As uncertain as its occupant.

_Confusion is a sign of imperfection. It must be corrected._

Lisa gazed blankly at the text on the screen before her. She'd kept Tosh's technical manuals as something of a reward for ploughing through the emotive nonsense, and had turned to them with anticipation after Ianto left; only find herself unable to concentrate. At least not on the text. More on the woman who'd scanned it for her.

Toshiko was her friend. Was she now also her rival?

Lisa had always recognised Toshiko as a double-edged sword. But she'd _had _to trust her, and been justified in that trust, so far. Without Tosh's help, the converter would have failed months ago. Lisa had dismissed her early wariness as jealousy, the misfiring of her emotional inhibitor. Now she wondered whether she should have paid more heed to the prompting of those earlier instincts.

Toshiko, the victim. Toshiko, the survivor.

Toshiko, who'd sold her loyalty to Torchwood in return for freedom. Toshiko, who'd freely _given_ her loyalty in return for – what? Friendship? Appreciation?

Toshiko the overlooked. Toshiko the underestimated.

Toshiko, who hummed with latent power, thrummed with hidden threat. Lacking only the trigger to unleash it all.

_If things had gone differently that morning….. If Ianto gave in to his impulses – possibly both of their impulses.… _

Tosh liked Ianto, trusted him. Probably even loved him. Maybe now she wanted him as well. Maybe now she'd _take _him.

Lisa had blithely assumed her safety lay in Tosh's scarred past. She hadn't considered the possibility that such a past might be overcome, in the arms of someone patient, caring, trusted, loved.

_Someone like Ianto._

Lisa had no concept of vanity anymore. With that clarity, she accepted that her past self wasn't anyone special. Oh, she'd been attractive, she supposed, certainly enough that Ianto considered himself fortunate when she'd responded to his advances. And from the stories Ianto told her, from the pictures in the albums he persisted in showing her, it appeared that Lisa had returned his affection. But from all available evidence, including the nebulous fragments of memory, Ianto's devotion wasn't particularly difficult to win. The unappreciated child he'd been still lurked not far beneath the polished, urbane exterior. Ianto would give his heart and soul to anyone who showed him a bit of appreciation, propped up his shaky sense of self-worth. Anyone could have won him over as she had.

_Anyone still could._

Jack hadn't done it. Jack's appreciation was a shallow thing, surface deep, and Ianto was intelligent enough to see that. Jack remained a threat, but only in the sense that, should he discover her, he could and would destroy her. Jack was, however, no threat to Lisa's hold on Ianto's devotion, which made him the idea release for Ianto's physical needs. Needs which had evidently sought an outlet this morning, with Toshiko.

Ianto might have resisted his body's urges this time, but those frustrated biological cravings would return, and he had quite sufficient affection for Tosh to tip the balance. If Tosh decided she wanted him.

And why wouldn't she? They could have a lovely little human life together.

_Especially once the inconvenient girlfriend is out of the equation. For her own good, of course. An act of mercy. An end to her suffering. Or so they'd convince themselves. _

_Or so Tosh will convince Ianto, if she decides to take him for herself._

And once more Lisa was reminded that she wasn't completely purged of emotion. She could still experience fear. Adrenaline rushed through her system, a fight or flight response, when she couldn't flee, bound into the converter as she was; couldn't fight, except with words, when there was no-one to hear them. Her muscles trembled under the onslaught. The pulse of a persistent human heart thundered in her temples.

The sound of the converter changed to a rhythmic hum as it compensated for the imbalances. Lisa calmed under its influence, reassured as much from what its improved functioning represented as she was by the soothing cocktail flooding her bloodstream. Tosh had brought the converter to this level, when she could just as easily let it fail, if she'd really wanted Ianto for herself. So the yearning, if it existed, was a new thing, perhaps born that very morning.

In this matter at least, time was firmly on Lisa's side. Ianto had been so desperate for Lisa's forgiveness this morning, so pathetically grateful when she granted it. He wasn't ready to turn to Tosh, not just yet. And Toshiko had turned Ianto away this morning. She wasn't ready, either. It was unlikely that either would overcome their misgivings in the short time left before Tanizaki arrived, as long as Lisa was careful.

Ianto had promised to send Toshiko down to see her. A great deal would depend on that visit. Lisa stared unseeing at the text on the screen as she planned what she'd have to do, what she'd have to say.

As her plans evolved, a satisfaction the likes of which she'd never experienced as a human stirred within Lisa, something that rejoiced in the awakening of a worthy opponent and seized on the challenge of how best to shape her back into an ally.

-XXX-

Two trolleys bearing the carefully wrapped forms of the Gryllidae squeaked their way across the Plass. Heads failed to turn. The trolleys weren't stretchers, exactly, and the burdens upon them were the wrong shape for corpses. With the addition of some string and a few of the artfully designed postage and packing labels from the box labeled 'distraction' in the SUV, no-one gave them a second look.

A poor disguise, assuredly, but the residents of Cardiff had generations of practice turning a blind eye to weird stuff happening around the water tower. Jack sometimes pondered on the possibility of a genetic perception filter.

Owen pushed both trolleys carefully onto the stone of the invisible lift, ensuring they'd vanished completely before he moved to step on himself.

"Don't forget the rest," he reminded Jack.

Jack sighed. "Why you insisted on dragging that back…" he began.

"I've got a use for it," Owen interrupted, unwilling to go through the argument again. "You'll like it, just you wait." He stepped forward, pausing before his head vanished into the blankness beyond the perception filter. "And it'll hardly put you out, Harkness. I'll have the stone clear by the time you get back."

Jack shook his head as his fingers probed beneath the cover of his wrist-strap for the lift controls. "I'll bring it via the office," he announced. "Off you go."

Perception warped around Owen as he followed the trolleys onto the lift, making Jack's eyes sting as his brain tried to convince them there was nothing to see. Owen looked up at Jack and shook his head, fully aware of the struggle. Too pigheaded for his own good, that one. Couldn't let himself lose. Not even to the perception filter.

Apparently not to Tosh, either, Owen mused, as the lift ground to a halt inside the Hub. Why else was Jack going in through the Tourism office when he could have the lift back up in less than a minute? No, Jack was still stinging from the loss of his latest toy boy and he wanted him back, regardless of how quickly he'd tire of him after.

Owen wasn't bothered about what it might do to Ianto. If the young man was foolish enough to play Jack's game again, he could deal with the consequences of his mistake. But Toshiko would be hurt, too, and that Owen _was_ bothered about. However much it rankled that she'd chosen Ianto over Owen himself, he still cared enough for Tosh to want to spare her the pain Jack's selfish pursuit would cause.

What Jack needed, Owen thought, was a distraction. A challenge.

Perhaps he'd just employed one. Young Ms Cooper of the doe eyes. Jack had eyes for her, too, and she'd sent them smoldering right back at him, regardless of the boyfriend she'd banged on about.

Owen stowed one Gryllidae in the cold slot and went to work on the other – the one who'd either been stabbed or stabbed itself. Tosh was still researching the species in the Archives. He'd save the one wearing what they'd assumed to be a life support helmet for when she got back. Tosh would like to be there when it came time to remove the tech.

Owen froze with a scalpel poised over his subject's thorax, struck by the realization that he might well be every bit as sad as Jack. Perhaps he needed a distraction as well. And Gwen _had _sent the come-hither looks his way, too.

Owen frowned in thought. Maybe Gwen wouldn't be enough of a challenge for Jack, after all. If she was as lukewarm about the boyfriend as she'd made out, Jack would probably find the whole thing too easy and return to stalking Tosh's Teaboy.

Unless he had to get past Owen first. Now there was a thought. A bit of competition would spur Jack on, and he'd forget all about Ianto. Toshiko would keep her man, and be happy. Well, as happy as anyone could be with that suited wimp.

And if Owen succeeded in winning the not-so-fair maiden, all dark hair and flashing eyes and that intriguing smile, well, he wouldn't knock it back, and he'd do less damage than Jack. Owen knew how to conduct himself with discretion, so when it ran out of steam Gwen would return to the boyfriend with no-one the wiser. Jack, on the other hand, was the type women made fools of themselves over.

Owen sliced the thorax open with a satisfying screech, and immersed himself in entrails.

-XXX-

Jack returned to the SUV with a light step and spent the next few minutes wrestling with the twisted mass of iron Owen had insisted they bring back. It was damned heavy, not to mention awkward. Good thing he'd decided to go back via the Tourism Office. Ianto could help him take it downstairs.

Jack paused within sight of the Tourism office and sighed. He'd become far too good a conman if he'd started conning himself. There was no logic to bringing this rubbish back, and even less sense in his decision to lug it in through the narrow office entrance. It wasn't an artifact, just an ordinary piece of iron warped by contact with the alien alloy of the craft that had crashed through it. It really should have been incinerated it on site, as protocol directed. But he and Owen had always brought any interesting metallurgy back to the Hub for Suzie, and Jack knew he was no more ready than Owen to face the reality of her loss by ceasing the habit.

Perhaps he _was_ going in through the Tourism office for an excuse to see Ianto, but the impulse was tempered by honorable intent, this time. Jack intended to break down the wall the young man had built between them since his last ill-advised attempt at seduction.

In hindsight, Jack acknowledged his behavior that evening was cringe-worthy, even by his own standards. He'd wanted to make amends ever since, which had proved surprising difficult, given that Ianto was avoiding him. It was subtly done, but Jack knew it wasn't a coincidence that he hadn't had a moment alone with the young man since that night. Unless you counted the mere seconds it took for Jack's coffee to land on his desk.

Jack leaned his burden against a wall, catching his breath and peering through the distorted glass of the Tourism office. The sight that met his straining eyes dried his throat instantly. Whatever Ianto had been doing, it must have involved awkward positioning, because the young man was indulging in a sinuous full-body stretch. Fond memories, bolstered by imagination, supplied what Jack's eyes couldn't make out through the cloudy glass, and he reached without further internal debate for the awkward metal excuse that would bring him into touching distance.

When the girl from Jubilee Pizza beat him to the entrance, Jack paused again, once more lowering his burden to rest against a wall. He couldn't take it through while a member of the public was there.

He didn't want a member of the public to see him angling for forgiveness, either, but that was beside the point.

He wanted Ianto to himself.

Jack waited patiently, then less patiently, as the young woman leaned against the counter and settled in for what looked to be a lengthy chat. Jack couldn't hear what she was saying, but her body language spoke for itself. Heat rose in Jack's gut, his hands shifting on the already twisted metal, bending it further out of shape.

-XXX-

Footsteps sounded in the corridor below the Archives. A light step, swift and sure. Someone who knew their way around here, but not heavy enough to be Ianto. Tosh, then.

_Toshiko reporting as ordered. Well, now, that's encouraging._

The door opened quietly. Tosh peered through the gap, her body almost sagging against the doorway.

_Reluctant to enter. Penitent. Definitely not over her misgivings, then, at least not sufficiently to be planning how to put the poor suffering woman out of her misery en-route to consoling the grieving boyfriend. _

Lisa's lips bent into a smile. A smile of welcome, of relief, of victory. Of realization. Of a newly awakened admiration for the outwardly meek woman hovering in the doorway. Didn't one of the books say that the meek would inherit the Earth?

It wasn't too late. Toshiko could be kept loyal, for the short time remaining. Toshiko _must_ be kept loyal. Apart from being the key to Lisa's safety, Tosh was essential to the new world. She would be a major power in the new regime.

Perhaps _the _power.

Lisa had bright new plans for Tosh. And they all hung on how carefully she managed this meeting.

-XXX-

Sunlight streamed with determination through the windows of the Tourism Office, delivering light and an illusion of warmth, brightening the dull office to match the mood of the man slapping brochures into spindly metal racks. The breeze outside might be chill, but the wisps finding their way through the gaps around the door provided nothing more than a welcome gust of fresh air.

Ianto stepped back from the newly loaded racks of pamphlets and felt every muscle in his back protest at being crouched over for so long. He straightened up slowly, stretching and twisting as he went, allowing himself an almost feline indulgence in the play of his own muscles as they loosened. He felt good. He felt…Hope. Hope for Lisa from the improved simulation results.

Hope _from _Lisa, too. She'd given him more than forgiveness, Ianto thought, with a welling of emotion bordering on adoration. Lisa had helped him make sense of his own confusing actions of late. Ianto had been carrying a whole layer of guilt he hadn't acknowledged, even to himself. But thanks to his amazing, strong, brave girlfriend, even that had lifted, at least to the point where he could live with it, for the short time remaining before all of this would become a nightmare of the past.

It was comforting to understand that he hadn't really been developing feelings for Jack after all. Just scratching a biological itch. Lisa - Ianto thought he'd never been more in love with Lisa. She'd known all along, and understood, and forgiven. And now Ianto was ready to hear it – even _needed _to hear it, given that inexplicable moment with Tosh - she'd explained.

Maybe he was falling for Lisa all over again. Ianto hugged the thought to himself as he let his arms drop back to his sides, feeling it warm him more than the pale sunshine, and mentally counted his blessings.

He'd talked things through with Tosh, too. They'd laughed together, comfortable with each other again. Tosh was on her way down to see Lisa now, supposedly still hunting for information on the Gryllidae while Ianto waited up here for lunch to arrive. He'd text her when Owen and Jack returned, and she'd be back in the Hub, her friendship with Lisa restored, and no one the wiser.

The burden of guilt Ianto had carried since Canary Wharf felt lighter than it had for months. Even Gwen Cooper's unexpected hiring conspired to relieve a weight. Admittedly, she was supposedly filling Suzie's position, but at least Torchwood would only be one down, not two.

Maybe not even that, Ianto mused, almost happily. Jack hadn't really wanted to employ him, so he was probably fine with a team of four. Torchwood could manage without a Teaboy. Even if it turned out that Gwen couldn't make coffee either, there was always Starbucks.

The bell above the door tinkled. Ianto's 'Welcome to Cardiff' smile had rarely been this unforced.

Annie smiled brightly in response. "Your pizza," she said, "_Ianto_." Her usually bright, inquisitive eyes softened as she contemplated him across the counter.

Ianto tried not to wince. He'd been trying not to give Annie any false encouragement. Now she probably thought it was her arrival that had brought the light to his eyes, returned the color to his cheeks, and he'd be fending off another barrage of supposedly subtle suggestions. No doubt she'd spend tonight on the phone with her girlfriends analyzing the implications of receiving a _special_ smile. Maybe she'd even feel encouraged enough to be direct.

"All four of them," Annie continued, arching her eyebrows in what she likely thought was a sophisticated manner as she handed the boxes across the counter. Looking at her now, Ianto found it difficult to believe he hadn't noticed Annie's infatuation earlier. The hopeful eyes, the constant smiles, the excess of casual touches. Perhaps he'd grown so used to Jack's steamroller approach that he simply didn't notice the signs of a subtle campaign anymore.

"Trying to fatten yourself up, are you?" Annie asked, propping one elbow on the counter as she waited for payment. She had a couple of shirt buttons undone; something Ianto doubted conformed to Jubilee dress code.

"Sharing with friends," Ianto answered, taking care to avoid any inadvertent contact as he counted the money into her hand. It wasn't completely a lie. One of the pizzas was for Tosh. And he could hardly say he was sharing with colleagues, could he? Given that they weren't supposed to admit to the existence of the workspace under the building. Though, really, how anyone could ever believe the people they saw vanishing into the Tourism office every morning actually worked in the poky space behind the bead curtain….Ianto sighed. He hadn't created this particular cover story, so he wasn't to blame for the fact that you could drive the SUV through the holes in it without scraping the paintwork.

Annie stowed the money away, placed the other elbow on the counter, and propped her chin on her hands. Ianto debated leaning away, but damn it, she didn't deserve that sort of insult.

"Not that you couldn't stand some fattening up," Annie continued, flashing a blinding smile, for which her parents were likely still paying off orthodontic fees. "Lord, now I sound like my mum." She concluded with a girlish giggle thoroughly at odds with the bright intelligence behind her eyes.

Ianto's mind scurried for an excuse. Any second now Annie would start talking about how good a cook her mum was, and if he wasn't quick he'd be fending off the invitation to Sunday roast he'd managed to dodge so far. He didn't want to hurt Annie's feelings. She was nice. He'd enjoyed chatting to her, until Tosh pointed out it was chatting _up, _after the time she'd been in the back office during a pizza delivery. Ianto had to hold back another smile as he remembered Tosh choking on her own laughter when he'd claimed in honest bewilderment that Annie was just being nice to a regular customer.

It wasn't that funny, really. In another life, hell, just a few years ago, he'd not have hesitated to respond, and been flattered, too. Annie was younger than him, but he didn't think it was enough of a gap to raise eyebrows, let alone doubts. She was attractive enough to turn heads, with a good brain behind the pretty face. Exactly the type of person Ianto had always assumed he'd settle down with, back before flying the nest and landing in London.

Ianto shook his head at himself, triggering a laugh from Annie, and a surge of guilty relief at unconsciously giving the right response. Yes, Annie represented the life he was supposed to have, but Ianto knew that if he'd taken that path, he'd be sitting in his safe suburban office wishing for adventure, with Cardiff feeling as much a cage as it had during his teenage years, when life would begin just as soon as he escaped. Besides, if he hadn't gone to London, he'd never have met Lisa, and that was unthinkable.

Lisa was worth everything he'd had to do. Worth everything he still had to do. Soon they would start their own new life. Ianto smiled slowly. A new life with Lisa, a dream growing more tangible by the day.

It had been vaguely understood that once Lisa was free, she and Ianto would flee the country with Dr Tanizaki, but until now it had all seemed so unreal, so far away. Whenever Ianto pondered how they'd manage, he couldn't get any further than puzzling over how to get Lisa past the metal detectors at the airports.

Dr Tanizaki had told him not to worry. To leave it to him and Lumic Industries. And now, just this morning, they'd come through. Safe houses and private planes and hints at wealth enough to buy the blindness of officialdom. All they had to do in return was work for Lumic Industries for a year, he and Lisa. So they had jobs, too. An income.

True, they'd be confined to Tanizaki's lab until Lisa was free of all the cybernetics, but it would be nothing like the secret life they lived now, especially for Lisa. They could be together whenever they liked, and they'd have the company of the other lab staff, too. Lisa's suffering would gain some meaning once Tanizaki and his team released the medical breakthroughs made possible by his study of her implants, which might well bring the same healing to their minds that Tanizaki's work would to Lisa's body.

Ianto's smile softened again as he contemplated the future. A rose-colored, candy-floss future, far better than the vision of ordinary life Annie's shining eyes had triggered.

Annie's face lit again. Ianto panicked briefly, wondering what he'd let himself in for while his mind drifted, then blessed the renewed tinkle of the bell over the door for a reprieve during which he'd hopefully produce an alibi for Sunday he hadn't already used a dozen times.

"Now that sounds lovely," said a new voice. A drawling American voice. Ianto turned to welcome the new customer, but the smile froze on his face as Jack pushed his way through the door, ushering in an icy wind, and reality.

"But unfortunately Sunday's the busiest in the tourism industry and we can't run this office without Ianto," Jack finished, dropping the lazy drawl and snapping back into his brisk 'official' tones. Jack's eyes bored into Ianto's, and every daydream fell in tatters around the carefully ironed cuffs on his trousers, waiting to be crushed beneath his feet.

Annie departed with a bright, professional farewell for Ianto, and a sideways look for Jack which suggested objects with pointy ends. Jack had the grace not to smirk until she was out of eyeshot, then spared Ianto a single raised eyebrow before ducking back out of the door himself, leaving Ianto wondering why he'd bothered coming through in the first place.

Unless….Ianto swallowed uneasily, remembering the last time Jack had entered the Hub through the Tourism office when he didn't need to, just like today. There'd been pizzas then, too. And an awkward invitation followed by an equally uncomfortable rejection.

And a polite if strained game of dodge ever since. Ianto wasn't comfortable with this cold war between himself and Jack. He'd much prefer to cease hostilities, but he was too uncertain of how Jack would interpret any peace overtures. Or possibly, too certain. Give Jack any encouragement, and Ianto might not get a chance to explain before he was on his back in Jack's bunker. Especially if Lisa was right about his current state of hormonal imbalance.

But ending the affair with Jack had been the first load off Ianto's conscience, and he had no intentions of resuming it, regardless of Lisa's tacit permission. The quieting of his libido would only amplify the renewed clamor of his conscience.

A conscience that wasn't clear, by any means, not with Lisa still hidden in the basement. But there were degrees of guilt. It was only his boss Ianto was deceiving now. Not a friend, not a lover. Just a boss. A boss morally shaky enough to hire him with the expectation that he'd follow through on the flirting. Which he had. Debt paid. No need to feel guilty that they disagreed on the duration of repayment. No need at all.

And no need to contemplate the label usually bestowed on those who traded their body for favor.

Or the title given to those who urged it.

-XXX-

Tosh lingered in the basement doorway, peering through the dimness, trying to determine whether she would be intruding on Lisa's rest. Knowing she'd be grateful for the excuse to sneak away.

"It's all right," Lisa announced. "I'm awake. Come on in."

Tosh ran a hand along the light switches, flooding the basement with the flicker of fluorescence, then hesitated, wondering why she'd bothered. She hadn't planned any maintenance this visit, and Lisa's enhanced vision didn't require this level of illumination. Tosh sighed to herself, accepting that she was using any excuse to delay what she was fairly certain would be an uncomfortable confrontation, and bewailing her own cowardice.

"Come on in where I can see you," Lisa invited, her voice brighter than Tosh had heard it in weeks. This was surreal. This morning, she'd been lying in her bed with Lisa's boyfriend draped on top of her, and now Lisa was inviting her in with the air of someone offering morning tea.

Tosh licked her lips, pasted on a smile and approached the converter, dropping her eyes to scan the gauges. An excuse to avoid Lisa's eyes perhaps, but some of the readings _were_ low enough to justify investigation, and she might as well take advantage of the extra light. And if she ran through her usual tasks she might feel just a little bit less awkward.

"You're been going through the painkillers a bit faster than normal," Tosh commented, frowning. She'd thought they had more than enough in reserve, and they certainly couldn't risk ordering more.

"I don't imagine it can differentiate between similar triggers," Lisa replied. "It's probably reacting to stress as it would to pain."

Tosh flinched inside, her mind searching the tone for a hint of rebuke, but Lisa's voice was the same level tone she always adopted during maintenance, conveying neither blame nor reassurance.

"We might have to work on that," Tosh muttered, still fiddling with the controls. Adjusting the trigger mechanism would help, but there was no escaping the fact that relieving a source of stress would do more good than any amount of mechanical manipulation.

Tosh's hands fell still. She heaved in a steadying breath and finally raised her eyes to meet Lisa's. The trapped woman returned her gaze calmly, still with no hint of accusation, possibly even a glint of humor to match the slight curve of her lips. Tosh swallowed hard against a knot of guilt. Lisa had made the initial effort of asking to see her; it was up to Tosh to say something. Anything.

"Ianto said you wanted to see me," Tosh began. "About…about…" Words deserted her. Just like that. Lips totally dry again, like her mouth, with Tosh fighting the impulse to bite them.

Lisa didn't have to work very hard at producing a smile, given all the physical signs of uncertainty Tosh was displaying.

_I was worrying about nothing. She's not past feeling guilty yet. I have a window of opportunity here, and I can use it. I **will** use it._

"About the silly way you're both carrying on," Lisa finished. "I'm not angry, not with either of you."

The accompanying sigh echoed through the basement. Tosh couldn't help thinking it sounded somewhat unnatural, but she couldn't decide whether it was an effect of the converter or the result of Lisa was trying to pretend she wasn't upset.

Lisa's smile fell away as Tosh watched her, still speechless. Literally fell off her face, Tosh thought, as though it was a mask dropping. Her gut tightened in anticipation. _This is ridiculous, _a voice within her cried in rebellion_. You didn't even kiss him_.

And with the memory of Ianto's face hovering over hers, his breath warming her lips – and honestly, how unfair was it for anyone to have morning breath that pleasant? – Tosh had to remind herself quite firmly that it was wrong to wish she'd gone ahead and done something to deserve the fallout.

"I've been expecting something like this," Lisa said, into the silence. Her voice resounded back from the damp walls. "Only I didn't expect it would be _you_."

-XXX-

"Some help here." Jack's voice broke into Ianto's introspection. He raised his head to see Jack back in the doorway; smiling the smile that made admin officers all over Cardiff breach privacy protocols. Ianto couldn't help responding to the smile, not to mention the plaintive note which accompanied it, as the Captain struggled with an awkward armful of metal. He moved to assist before he quite realised the implication of leaving the protective barrier of his counter.

"What _is_ that?" Ianto asked, holding the door open so Jack could use both arms to drag the rest of his burden through. During the few steps it took to cross the office, Ianto made a far more significant journey in his mind. He was enjoying this incremental lightening of his conscience, and while he didn't regret ending the affair with Jack, an uneasy prickling remained over the _way _he'd ended it.

Here was an opportunity to clear the air between them before he left, and Ianto decided to take it. If Jack interpreted it as the wrong sort of overture, well, it would only bolster the cover story they intended to plant in Tosh's memories.

"Basketball ring," Jack explained, somewhat breathlessly, determinedly tamping down on the unexpected surge of pleasure at Ianto's willing assistance. "Or what was left after the Gryllidae ship crashed through it. Couldn't leave it on site, too much alien alloy melded onto it during the collision.

Ianto registered the defensive tone, and _didn't_ point out the related protocol. He and Tosh had shared a few private smiles over Owen and Jack's habit of bringing trinkets to Suzie, especially the fierce if unvoiced competition over who brought the better gifts. It must be hard to accept that was all over, that they'd never again vie for the reward of one of Suzie's rare, glowing smiles.

"I know we should have destroyed it," Jack admitted. This was pathetic, really it was. He shouldn't be watching Ianto closely enough to see the aborted twitch in those elegantly etched eyebrows, the softening in those sapphire eyes. And he shouldn't feel the need to explain, either. "But Owen insists he's got plans for it, and…" Jack broke off with a shrug.

"It was kind of you to indulge him," Ianto said, with a noticeable lack of the coolness which had become customary between them.

Jack's spirits rose at the approval, not unlike the tail of a patted puppy. He'd expected to have to fight his way through the return of the ice-man, but here he was getting the friendly eyes instead, and he damned near despaired at himself that Ianto's support had come to mean so much. He hadn't intended for this to happen. Hadn't wanted it. _Didn't_ want it. With no further discussion, Jack got his shoulder underneath the metal, and refused to rejoice in the brush of Ianto's arm against his as the young man took the other end.

Between them, they got the unwieldy, twisted relic of council's good intentions through the door and propped it against the wall near the Hub entrance, while they leaned against the counter and caught their breath. Ianto considered that Jack was standing a bit closer than necessary, but steeled himself not to react. He'd just resolved to try to normalize things between them, after all, so it wouldn't be a good idea to unleash one of the quashing remarks waiting on the edge of his tongue.

Ianto supposed he ought to offer to help Jack get the thing down to the Hub, but the prospect of stumbling along the narrow corridor together raised its own brand of awkward. No call for overdoing it. If Jack wanted assistance, he was more than capable of asking for it. Commanding it, come to that.

Except that the silence was becoming awkward in itself, and Jack showed no inclination to break it.

"I'd have thought you'd bring it via the lift," Ianto commented eventually.

"Owen commandeered that for the bodies," Jack explained, rubbing a hand across a sweating forehead. "Guess I should have waited, but I had to go back to the SUV anyway, and the office door was closer." Jack shifted uncomfortably, remembering the moment he'd walked in on, feeling even more uncomfortable at the impulse which had driven him to intrude on it. "Sorry if I interrupted anything," he said awkwardly. "Y'know with….um…."

Ianto's cheeks darkened slightly. "Annie was just delivering lunch," he said.

_Annie. _Annie, the Pizza girl from Jubiliee. Jack's stomach roiled in a manner totally unrelated to the scent of pizza drifting up from somewhere beneath the counter. _Annie_ hadn't dumped the greasy boxes on the counter itself, as Jack had that night he was trying to forget. No doubt Ianto appreciated the girl's effort at preserving his nice shiny woodwork.

"So I heard," Jack responded, forcing a smile. It appeared he wasn't Tosh's only rival for Ianto's attention. Jack suddenly felt like the lesser threat, and he didn't like it one bit. This might be what it felt like to have one's ego take a killing hit. "I didn't mean to ruin your plans for the weekend," Jack added, with his best attempt at hearty. "You're entitled to a day off, Ianto….Take Sunday if you like."

Ianto hesitated, battling the temptation to just go along with it. He didn't assume for a second that his rejection had stung Jack any deeper than his pride, a wound which would heal instantly if Jack believed he'd broken things off in order to pursue 'a monogamous entanglement' with Annie. Ianto finally shook his head. He couldn't do it. He'd have to encourage Annie in order to bolster the illusion, and apart from the inherent cruelty, his conscience didn't need a new load of deception.

"I was looking for a way out, Sir, to be honest," Ianto admitted, allowing himself a rueful smile. "I suppose I ought to be thanking you for giving me a standing excuse for Sundays that won't hurt her feelings."

Jack smiled and turned so he was facing Ianto, leaning more heavily onto the counter. "Glad I could oblige," he said lightly. "Not the first offer, huh?"

Ianto nodded, blushing slightly. "She's quite persistent," he admitted.

Jack eyed Ianto carefully, battling an irrational flutter of hope. "Not your cup of tea then?" he pressed, shifting slightly closer. "Or should I say coffee?"

Coffee-colored skin floated across Ianto's vision even as the heady scent of Jack's aftershave filled his nostrils, and he shifted away sharply.

"Torchwood isn't relationship-friendly," Ianto said. The tone of the conversation was becoming uncomfortably close to flirtation, and he hadn't missed Jack's attempt to move nearer. Everyone seemed to be finding it convenient to drape themselves over his counter today, and he wished they'd stop.

Jack blinked. Had he just been warned off again? Quite possibly. Quite neatly. And quite honestly, which raised a completely different issue and gave Jack's mind something to do other than grasp at the possible implications for whatever the hell was going on between Ianto and Tosh.

"Gwen's got a boyfriend," Jack pointed out, brow creasing. "Do you think that'll be a problem?"

Ianto tried not to gape at the change of tack. Maybe he was reading this all wrong, after all. Jack _had _offered him a day off with the expectation he'd spend it with Annie. And Jack was asking him a perfectly reasonable, work related question, when Ianto had been bracing himself to fend off more innuendo. As he had ever since that night, right here, when Jack tried to lure him downstairs. Then there was this morning, all over poor Tosh.

Ianto frowned in thought. He used to be so sure Annie was simply being nice to a regular customer, too, so why was he suddenly convinced differently? Was Lisa right? Was he seeing flirtation that wasn't there? Hoping for it, even? Were his hormones really coloring his every interaction?

Ianto gathered his wits and shook his head. He must have imagined that gleam in Jack's eyes. There really wasn't a need to be constantly on the defense with Jack, not any more. He'd probably been arrogant assuming Jack would continue to pursue him.

It was very tempting to cast Jack as the enemy, and if things went wrong with Lisa, then enemy he certainly would become. But here, now, Jack was just the boss asking an employee's opinion. An opinion Jack was hardly going to like but one that Ianto was fully equipped to answer. Ianto was an authority on deception, after all. Maybe it would even help Gwen in the long run.

"Not for Torchwood," Ianto answered slowly. "But for Gwen….I don't see how it could be anything but awkward at best - damaging at worst. Deception is hardly a good foundation for a relationship, and Torchwood will demand that from her. She'll have to lie to him constantly, even about the simplest things like where she's been each day or what she's done."

Ianto felt more than saw Jack's flinch. But it _was_ true and it wouldn't hurt to have Jack thinking about that when he dragged his newest recruit into Torchwood's all-devouring maw. Gwen's every relationship would be tainted. Not just with her boyfriend, but all her friends, all her family. Ianto couldn't help feeling empathy. He knew what that was like. He hadn't seen his sister for months. And now it suddenly occurred to him that he wouldn't be able to see her before he left, either. Or after. Ianto blinked away the sudden burning in his eyes and wondered if it was too late to take Jack up on that offer of a day off. But then, what could he tell Rhiannon, anyway? He wouldn't even be able to send postcards.

Jack was watching him. Silently. Curiously, almost. "Yes, Sir," Ianto concluded quietly. "I do think it will be a problem." He straightened abruptly, and gestured at the crumpled metal cluttering up his office. "Do you want a hand getting Owen's project downstairs, Sir?"

Jack met his eyes, registered the deep-seated pain and shrank from it. Didn't want to add to it.

"Just get the door for me," Jack answered quietly. "And bring lunch down to the boardroom, when you're ready."

-XXX-

Tosh suddenly understood what it meant to have your mind reeling. "But nothing happened," she protested.

"I know," Lisa said, with a definite hint of impatience coloring her tone now. It wasn't what _had _happened that concerned her; it was what _might_ have happened.

What might still happen, if she didn't manage this carefully. Lisa felt the weight of her responsibility settle heavily upon her. If she messed this up, she risked more than her own safety. She risked a whole world. The new world. The new world which needed Tosh, perhaps even more than it needed Lisa herself.

"Ianto's already told me," Lisa said, scraping her reserves for patience. "And _you've_ told me enough for me to know you aren't interested in that sort of thing anymore." Lisa restrained a smile as Tosh looked away.

"I suppose he's lucky you didn't slap him one," Lisa continued, noting Tosh's reaction with satisfaction. The skin on Tosh's face registered a rise in temperature. She was blushing. Uncomfortable. Yet there was a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

_That's right, Toshiko. We're sisters-in-arms, you and I. Victims of male lust._

"But Ianto, that's a different matter altogether," Lisa continued carefully. "He….well, as you apparently found out this morning, he's _very_ interested." Lisa decided not to add the eyelash flutter which accompanied that sort of statement in the romance novels. She didn't think that sort of thing would work with Tosh. "At least, he used to be," Lisa added, letting her voice drop in volume to imply sadness.

Lisa watched Tosh intently from beneath lowered lashes, while her heartbeat sped up again, triggering another release of opiates from the converter. Tosh was right about that, too. She should have better control of herself than this, especially when it came to the emotional dregs of her system. But the next few minutes would be vital in shaping Tosh's interactions with Ianto in the time remaining. The next few minutes would set the new world up for glorious success.

"And since Ianto stopped using Jack, it was only a matter of time before he turned to someone else," Lisa continued. "I'm only sorry he bothered you with it."

There were so many things terribly wrong in that statement that it took a while before Tosh got control of her gaping jaw. "But you…he….you're in love….aren't you? You love him…" A terrible doubt took root somewhere in Tosh's soul. "You _do_ love him, Lisa….don't you?"

Lisa knew she had to stamp on that, and quickly. The last thing she needed was for Tosh to decide Ianto was risking all for someone who didn't deserve his devotion.

"I love him enough not to be selfish," Lisa answered sharply, widening her eyes to imply anger. She let her voice rise. "Why should he miss out just because _I'll_ never be able to have sex with him again?"

The words echoed off the walls. Really, Lisa was quite proud of how she was handling this. It had delivered an almost physical blow, using the blunt phrasing instead of further careful euphemisms. Tosh would be proud of her too, later. When she understood how much Lisa had done for her.

"No, Lisa," Tosh responded, an instinctive, pointless reassurance. "You mustn't think like that. Dr Tanizaki will cure you."

Lisa noted the moisture in Tosh's eyes with satisfaction. She was safely past suspicion and into sympathy. Just a bit more and Tosh would be right where Lisa needed her.

Lisa allowed herself a huff of impatience that she didn't feel. Really, she just wanted to laugh at how easily a woman as intelligent as Tosh could be manipulated like this. Further proof that the impulses of the body were only a distraction for the mind. Lisa couldn't wait to unleash Tosh's full potential. Just a couple more weeks…..Just a bit more patience, then the world would be hers….theirs.

"Toshiko, I'm not giving up," Lisa said, mustering an air of patience. "I'm just looking to the future."

_That might well be the only honest thing I've said all day. The bright, shiny future, where your brilliant mind will guide us to victory._

Tosh gaped at her. On some level, she had to accept this made a twisted kind of sense. Consistent, at least. Lisa had turned a blind eye to Ianto's affair with Jack in the past. Tosh remembered admiring her for not bludgeoning Ianto with guilt back then. Why should now be any different?

Lisa sighed, the action sending her off on a mental tangent which she permitted on the basis it would give Tosh time to collect her thoughts.

_Why do I sigh? Does the converter not provide enough oxygen, or I am just getting too good at playing human? Maybe both. Either way, it'll all be resolved soon – if I stop drifting like this and concentrate on getting through the next few minutes…._

"Ianto won't talk to me about this," Lisa continued, when Tosh managed to meet her eyes again. "So _you _must."

Lisa was glad Tosh had turned the lights up. The extra illumination meant she didn't miss a single nuance of Tosh's reactions. And every muscle, every twitch, screamed that Tosh was truly off balance now.

_Groping for stability. Ready to accept whatever I tell her, if I'm careful._

"You must realize," Lisa began, speaking carefully, vetting each word before letting it escape. "That however clever Dr Tanizaki is, I'll never be able to be ….intimate… with Ianto…..with _anyone_ again." Back to euphemisms. No need for shock value this time.

Tosh shook her head in wordless denial. Lisa forged onward, victory almost in her grasp. "Seriously, Tosh, forget about trying to coddle me and just _look_ at me."

Tosh raised her eyes obediently. Her lashes were damp. It looked quite lovely. Lisa dragged her mind away from the abstract again.

"There isn't an erogenous zone left, and you know it," Lisa continued firmly_. _

_How does one communicate noble suffering? Closed eyes always seem to help. Tosh can imagine whatever she likes behind my bravely trembling lids._

"I've accepted it," Lisa continued. "And I need you to help Ianto understand as well, or this is going to tear him apart. Please Toshiko. I don't have anyone else to ask."

Tosh's eyes widened. Her head dipped. Lisa allowed her eyes to flutter open and tried to keep her face impassive. She was probably supposed to be very sad right now, not blazing with a satisfaction that topped up her endorphin levels with no effort from the converter.

"He's going to turn to someone eventually," Lisa concluded. "And I don't want him to ruin it for himself with guilt." Toshiko glanced away, rapidly, skin heating. No doubt of the part guilt had played in terminating their encounter that morning.

Lisa sighed, deliberately, heavily, and launched into her planned conclusion. "It _was _easier when it was Jack, though," she said, voice low. "Someone he was using to keep me safe." Lisa let her voice break, as she'd been practicing since Ianto left. "Someone he doesn't love."

And now it was time to close her eyes again, keep them shut, rest all her hopes, all her future, the entire world's future, on Tosh following the path so carefully laid.

Jack was definitely the lesser of the two evils. Let Ianto enjoy the satisfaction of the physical while he still could. Just not with Tosh.

Toshiko was destined for greater things. She wasn't aware of her own power yet, which was all to the good. Time enough for that later.

_How did I not see it before? The new world will have its Cyber Controller. _

* * *

_Thank you for reading. _

_Quick note for everyone who has asked how far this fic will go I have previously planned to take it through to the end of TKKS, but have now decided to stop at the conclusion of Cyberwoman. Mostly because I'm loving my crazy lady and don't want to continue without her. Possibly a sequel_...


	43. Chapter 43

_Firstly, let me thank all of you who haven't cancelled your alerts in disgust. It has been too long, I know. I have been working on it, I swear, just not very successfully._

_This chapter is part plot and part re-establishing the story, in my mind as much as yours, I admit, and takes place between the end of Everything Changes and Day One (I'm loosely assuming a week between episodes). _

_Thank you for hanging in there, hope you enjoy. And if this happens to be your first visit, welcome :)_

* * *

Jack leaned back in his chair and raised his coffee mug to his lips. Having this chance to relax, however brief it might prove to be, felt damned near indulgent. He wondered whether Ianto would scold him if he put his feet up on the desk, which was closer to an incentive than a deterrent.

Jack left his feet where they were and hoped no-one noticed the smile on his face, given the likelihood of it being closer to dopey than contemplative. He didn't know exactly how, and he couldn't bring himself to care, but there'd been a definite thaw between himself and Ianto since that awkward, half-friendly encounter in the tourism office. Paperwork awaiting his signature arrived while Jack was still at his desk now, instead of greeting him on his return from however brief an absence, and coffee was no longer either deposited with the speed of light or timed to coincide with Jack being on the phone.

Like this mug, which Jack was currently savoring with reverence due an aged brandy, over which he and Ianto had conducted a highly civilized discussion regarding the advisability of bringing Gwen on board immediately, or waiting until the Rift ceased its current tendency to, as Owen so elegantly described it, spew its guts all over Cardiff.

The arrival of the Gryllidae ship had marked the end of the brief lull in Rift activity. The second Gryllidae, still bearing its headgear, waited with the patience of death for autopsy and storage while the remnants of Torchwood scrambled to keep up with the alerts. Today was the first time in days that any of them had a chance to return to the Hub for longer than it took to wrap-up one deposit and prepare for the next. Accordingly, Owen had dragged Tosh down into the med bay to assist him with the overdue autopsy. Whether they'd get it finished before the next alert was anyone's guess.

Jack turned his coffee mug in his hands, still mulling over how Ianto had managed to make him completely change his mind without disagreeing with a single word he'd said. Jack's initial intent was to push Gwen's transfer through as quickly as possible. An extra body in the field seemed nothing less than a gift from the Gods right now, but Ianto had subtly managed to get him thinking about what might emerge from the shiny wrapping.

Gwen wasn't, after all, just a set of arms and legs topped with that endearing smile. She had a mouth, which she not only wasn't afraid to use but could hardly be persuaded to_ stop_ using. The mouth was in turn connected to a brain, one notably not wired for blind obedience to authority. Admittedly, that was something Jack considered an asset, and was in fact a large part of why he wanted her on board. But, at a life or death moment in the field and coupled with her inexperience, it would not only be a danger to Gwen herself, but would hamper whoever she was paired with. Jack was fully prepared to take Gwen under his own wing, was in fact looking forward to it probably more than he should be - but he had to admit he'd chafe under the need to slow down for her with so much else yet to be done. Strangely enough, his coffee mug had been topped up at just about the time he'd come to that conclusion.

To tip the scales further, Jack had hoped to give Gwen a gentler recruitment than being thrown into field work without a safety net. It might well be the traditional Torchwood induction, but it hadn't proved an advantage for the rest of the team and Jack liked to think he'd learned from his mistakes.

And the alternative - Jack smiled again as he recalled Ianto's expression when he'd proposed assigning Gwen to the Archives until someone had the time to ease her into field work. Horror wasn't an understatement. Jack had been a bit miffed at first. He'd thought it was quite a neat solution, getting Gwen immersed in Torchwood and freeing Ianto up for more important duties in one swoop. Of course, Ianto had very properly backed down immediately and uttered a tight-lipped agreement. After which Jack found himself hard-pressed not to pat the boy on the head as he promised not to let the new girl mess up Ianto's toys.

Jack had concluded, somewhat reluctantly, to leave Gwen's recruitment on hold. Which earned him a further refill of his coffee mug.

Jack also concluded he was being managed, and he couldn't quite bring himself to hate it.

In the kitchen, Ianto barely managed to get the mugs into the sink without dropping them. He closed the door, hands braced on the edge of the sink, his burning forehead pressed against the cool tiles, and trembled. Faces swirled inside his head, Lisa, and Tosh – and Jack, and between the three of them he wondered how long it would be before they tore him apart.

-XXX-

The flash of light from the medical bay wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Flashes, crashes, and a truly impressive amount of swearing were only to be expected from Owen's personal domain. No, what got Jack's attention was the screeching. _Toshiko _screeching. While Owen was admittedly the type who attracted that sort of behavior, Tosh wasn't the type to indulge in it.

Jack darted out of his office, just in time to see Ianto making an equally hurried exit from the kitchen, still holding a tea-towel which he pitched unceremoniously back over his shoulder in the general direction of the doorway as Tosh erupted from the staircase. Her eyes were wild, her face drawn into lines of fury, and she was clutching something to her chest which Jack devoutly hoped wasn't her innards.

Owen followed, catching up with Tosh just as Jack identified the object in her arms as the Gryllidae helmet. His eyes met Ianto's over the heads of the arguing pair, transmitting equal confusion, asking for instructions. Jack jerked his head towards Toshiko, eyes dropping pointedly to the object gripped in her arms. Ianto nodded once in return and moved silently away while Jack approached the combatants, fighting to keep a totally inappropriate grin off his face. His bunker was still far too empty, and there were silences between them where innuendo-laced banter once flowed - but there was also a return to moments like this, when he and Ianto spoke with little more than a glance or the quirk of an eyebrow.

It was a truce of sorts, with Jack, possibly for the first time ever, reluctant to push matters in case Ianto withdrew again. In the interests of workplace harmony, he told himself. A harmony notably absent today.

"You're being ridiculous," Owen yelled, seizing hold of Tosh's elbow. "All I meant was you shouldn't have done it without protective gear." He glanced wildly around, spied Jack, and directed the rest of the rant at him. "She's as bad as you, Harkness. It could've been…"

"Live?" Tosh spat, wrenching her arm free without loosening her hold on the artifact. "Well, excuse me for assuming you're at least competent enough to confirm lack of life signs _before _preparing a subject for autopsy."

Owen's face darkened in a way that only a slight on his medical skills could achieve. "Residual energy," he began.

Jack cleared his throat, very loudly. "Owen, park whatever you're working on in the morgue and go home. Get some rest before the Rift goes ballistic again. You too, Toshiko." He hesitated, but the memory of how badly he'd failed Suzie spurred him to add. "But make sure that helmet goes into the Archives first."

_That_ got silence. Thundering, echoing silence. Jack struggled to keep his mouth shut and his face impassive. He wouldn't have_ needed_ to say it if his team hadn't already proved their willingness to break that rule. All of them except Ianto. The tension holding Jack's muscles rigid relaxed. Whatever was or wasn't between them, Ianto could be trusted to do his duty. Possibly a legacy from Hartman's regime, in which case she'd finally proved useful for something.

"We'll discuss this at a team meeting first thing tomorrow morning," Jack decided. "For which," he added, with a pointed glance at Owen, "you will all be on time."

Owen vanished back into the medical bay, swearing not quite under his breath. Ianto reappeared with a portable evidence locker, eased the artifact from Tosh's grasp and took his time stowing it inside while Tosh gathered her bag and cleared her desk.

-XXX-

"What happened?" Ianto hissed urgently. "Are you OK?"

Tosh responded with string of words in which 'bloody' and 'Owen' figured prominently.

"I'm taking that as a No," Ianto said, prudently keeping clear of flying elbows.

Tosh shut a desk drawer with a bang. She gestured furiously to the evidence locker dangling from Ianto's arm. "He nearly destroyed it," she spluttered, still too enraged for coherence. "Well, the parts of it he bothered to retrieve…wouldn't have left a bit of his patient behind, but…_this_…oh, that bloody careless _git_."

"It's just an artifact, Tosh," Ianto protested weakly.

"Just an…" Tosh looked around wildly, cursing the cameras and microphones all around them, yet too aware of Jack's scrutiny to risk disabling the microphone over her desk. She flung her bag over her shoulder and set off for the cog with a determined step.

Ianto fell into place beside her. He ought to at least offer to follow her home, he thought guiltily, but Jack was likely to follow his usual pattern when Owen was out of sorts and take him to the pub. An empty Hub was a rare event lately. Ianto didn't want to miss the chance for a night with Lisa.

Tosh refused to meet his eyes until the cog alarm was wailing loudly enough to shield her voice from the microphone. "_They _think it's life support," she said bitterly. "And if they're right – and they might well be, then it could've…..we could've…we might have _tried_ at least…but thanks to Owen bloody Harper I'll probably never be able to get it working. Certainly not in the next week or so…..and what the hell good will it be after that?"

Ianto gaped at her. It was fairly obvious what she was hinting at and he was partly relieved that he wouldn't have to talk her out of it. But to hear Tosh imply that perfecting a new form of life support would be irrelevant if she didn't have a personal use for it….. This wasn't like Tosh at all. It was almost like….it felt like betrayal of the worst kind to even entertain the thought, but Suzie's face swam across his vision, eyes glazing over as she caressed the glove. No, Tosh mustn't be left alone like this. Lisa would understand.

Ianto looked down at the locker dangling from his hand. "So," he said carefully. "Sounds like it's pretty useless then. Certainly not worth getting so worked up about. How about I take it down to the Archives and then we can…."

Tosh felt tears rise in her eyes. "Oh, you're as bad as he is," she snapped, and let the cog roll shut behind her without even checking to see if he'd followed.

As the elevator clanked back down to the Hub, Tosh leaned against the clammy stone wall for support, letting the tears have their way before she had to move out into the public eye. She'd done the right thing, however much she regretted taking her frustration out on her best friend. Ianto had been on the verge of offering to come home with her, and while she longed for the reassurance of his company she knew it would be selfish to accept. He had the chance for a night with Lisa, and heavens knew the poor woman could use it.

Tosh had been spending a lot of time in the 'Archives' these past days, ostensibly helping Ianto keep up with the buildup of artifacts resulting from the recent surge of Rift activity. In reality, she'd been _beneath_ the archives, keeping Lisa company, trying to take her mind off what none of them were willing to describe as withdrawal symptoms, with Ianto poised to cover if anyone came looking.

With the recent stresses Lisa had run through their stock of pain medication much faster than they'd estimated and Tosh had been forced to adjust the triggers on the mechanism. There'd been no other choice. They were already into the reserves and they couldn't risk diverting more, not with Owen still fuming over the 'virus' with which they'd covered their tracks last time. A lower level of pain relief now was obviously preferable to none at all later, but that didn't make the physical symptoms any easier to cope with, or to witness. Which was why Lisa had asked Tosh to sit with her instead of Ianto, in spite of his protests.

If there was a silver lining to this particular cloud, it was the new closeness between Lisa and herself. They'd spoken a great deal, in those scattered intervals where the meds were at their peak, where Lisa was neither in pain nor groggy, during which they'd developed what Tosh liked to think of as a new appreciation for each other. Certainly Lisa seemed more interested in Tosh herself than she ever had before, which Tosh found flattering, if somewhat inexplicable.

Still, Ianto deserved a chance to spend time with Lisa too, and tonight he'd have it. Well, assuming Jack left the Hub. And if Jack didn't leave….well… Tosh's cheeks heated again, but not from anger this time.

Lisa had spent a great deal of time explaining her stance on _that_, too, and she had Tosh at least to the point where she wouldn't say a word if Ianto…err….'fell off the wagon.' Ianto had given up so much; Lisa was adamant that he deserved to have _something_ back. Something she couldn't give him. Something, if Tosh was reading between the lines correctly, that Lisa no longer _wanted_ to give him, even if she'd been capable. As long as he chose someone who neither cared for Ianto nor would be hurt by Ianto's lack of feeling in return. Which ruled Tosh out completely, in Lisa's mind and her own.

Privately, Tosh thought it ruled out Jack as well, but it was easier for Lisa that way, so she had no intentions of arguing. And if part of her quietly rejoiced over the two men indulging– however briefly – what they both denied they felt for each other, well, Lisa didn't need to know that either.

Tosh found herself smiling through her tears. Jack's behavior towards Ianto lately had been bordering on …um….sweet. Apparently he'd noticed young Annie's hopeless crush on Ianto, and responded in what Tosh considered exactly the way someone would behave who was awfully jealous and trying to pretend he wasn't. Ianto, for his part, no longer actively avoided Jack's presence, looking slightly less like a hunted deer every day. If only they could free Lisa without Tanizaki's help, thus avoiding the obligation to flee the country with him, there could be quite a nice solution for everyone concerned. In Tosh's eyes, the method of achieving that had landed almost literally in Owen's lap - if only Owen hadn't left half of it behind to be incinerated, and refrigerated the rest. If only he hadn't interfered when Tosh was trying to activate it. If only she had more time to work on it before Tanizaki was due to arrive. If Owen would stop treating her with quite so much condescension….If….If…..If

Below, the cog sounded again. Probably Owen. Tosh pulled herself out of her daydreams and hurried along the corridor. She'd made a brilliant exit, and she wouldn't ruin it by having him find her moping in the passageway.

-XXX-

The knot developing in Jack's gut dissolved when Ianto remained on the inside of the cog after Tosh stormed through it. Of course he wouldn't follow her, not with an artifact to archive.

Jack felt more than heard Owen's re-emergence from the medical bay. Perhaps it was the weight of the cynical stare.

"Tomorrow, Owen," Jack said, before the other man could get a word out. "Tell me tomorrow."

The medic's thin lips quirked into a sneer. "'Cause you reckon you've got better things to do tonight?" he scoffed, looking from Jack to the somewhat forlorn figure left on the inside of the cog. "He'll be after her as soon as he locks that artifact away, don't kid yourself otherwise."

"I wasn't," Jack began, trailing off at Owen's knowing grin. It was pointless to protest. Owen knew Jack better than he knew himself sometimes, and Jack didn't want to dwell on what that implied about how alike the two men had become.

"C'mon, I'll buy you a drink," Jack offered wearily. "_A _drink," he warned, as the medic fell into step beside him. "I'm not gonna give you an excuse to get out of that meeting tomorrow."

Owen sulked at Jack from across their usual spot at the pub. Jack toyed with his glass, wishing they'd had the sense to choose a different table at least, so the empty seats between them wouldn't have felt so accusing. Suzie would never sit here again, but Tosh should've occupied one of the chairs, however briefly. Jack dwelt momentarily on the thought of Gwen filling the empty space, and the image pretty much blanked out the vague sense of guilt that there never had been a fifth seat for Ianto.

Owen sipped the drink Jack paid for, making it last since Jack had already refused to fund a refill. Eventually, Jack cleared his throat. "So, do you want to talk before you drown your sorrows, or after?"

Owen shrugged. "What's to say? Same old, same old. I go on at you about getting over it, about time I took my own advice, I reckon. And I was only trying to help, for God's sake!" Heads turned discreetly in their direction as Owen's glass rattled onto the table. Owen glared back at them, but his voice was softer as he continued, though no less tense.

"Like I said, just trying to help," he muttered. "But I lay one hand on her, and she freaks out on me. Again." Owen shifted restlessly in his seat. "I give up, Jack. This time, I really give up." The doctor raised his glass in a mocking toast. "Good luck, Teaboy. Dunno what the hell you've been doing with her, and I officially no longer give a rat's. She's all yours. Assuming you want her, which I'm beginning to doubt myself, quite frankly."

Owen drained his glass and stalked off to the bar, intent on paying for his round in spite of Jack's protests. Jack watched him, sunk in something of a daze as his mind reeled from the implications. Pictures flashed inside his head. Ianto avoiding Tosh's pleading glances after the night Suzie died, the night Jack had confirmed that Ianto's car spent mostly parked in Tosh's driveway. Tosh storming away today, when Ianto had evidently been poised to follow. Ianto hovering dejectedly as the cog rolled shut between them.

It didn't look very good for them, did it? Jack told himself firmly he ought to be sad about that. Only he wasn't.

And Owen had managed to distract him from what the fight with Toshiko was really about quite nicely, hadn't he? Sneaky manipulative little sod. No wonder he and Jack got along so well.

Jack surrendered any hope of extracting any further explanation for the fracas at the Hub when Owen enticed two women into returning to their table with him, making use of those empty seats after all. They were just Jack's type, too. Young enough to catch the eye, old enough to know the game and the rules they'd play by. All fun, no guilt, but still….Jack wasn't here for fun, and he found his feet itching to return to the Hub. The empty Hub. Odd.

He wasn't expecting Ianto to be at the Hub, Jack assured himself. Yes, the young man had been on his way to the Archives when they left, but Jack didn't fool himself that the Welshman would be there on his return. Ianto still put in longer hours than the rest of the team, but he accomplished it by arriving with the first of them and leaving with the last. Arrogant of him, Jack thought, absently sipping on the scotch Owen had placed in front of him. Yes, insufferably arrogant, to presume Jack would swoop on him if they were ever alone in the Hub. As if Jack couldn't have anyone he wanted with the flick of a finger. Look at these women, practically panting for it, for him, even the one hanging off Owen's arm.

It wasn't an accident that their hands touched his around the stem of their wineglasses when Jack refilled them from the bottle Owen had brought, the way Ianto's never did any more across the coffee mug. It wasn't by chance that slender feet extended from the other side of the table, brushing persistently against his ankles, while on this side a hip nudged his, even though there was plenty of space in the booth. Not a grain of subtlety between them. He could have either of them for the asking. Or both, and it would be almost worth the effort just for Owen's reaction tomorrow.

Only it was so damned _boring_ not having to work for it.

Jack finished the inferior scotch Owen had bought him and left without the least shred of regret for the feminine eyes grieving his departure. Owen would no doubt be happy to provide whatever sort of consolation they needed.

Jack sidestepped the temptation to find out whether the Hub was really empty by taking himself to a roof instead, where he searched between the stars for the elusive blue box until the sun peeked over the horizon. Stiff necked, sandy-eyed, tired at last but somehow at peace with himself for a change, Jack stumbled back into the Hub and fell gratefully into his bunker. He didn't set an alarm. If all else failed, the cog would rouse him, and he'd be up in his office by the time coffee arrived.

Jack slept with a smile on his face, dreaming of blue boxes and blue eyes, and both seemed equally out of reach.

-XXX-

Far above, the cog alarm sounded. Ianto shifted, yawned, blinked at his watch. Too early for Tosh or Owen, and Lisa would have woken him if she'd heard the Rift alert. It was probably just Jack staggering home after his bender with Owen.

"Jack," Lisa's voice confirmed from above. Ianto smiled up fondly, even though she couldn't see him. She knew the sound of all of their footsteps. Could probably tell which shoes they were wearing, too.

"How's the pain?" Ianto asked, fighting his blankets to get into a sitting position.

"Tolerable," Lisa answered. "Get some more sleep, Ianto. I'll wake you when Tosh's car pulls into the garage. That should give you plenty of time to be up there before her."

Shifting on the mattress, Ianto frowned groggily. "Since when have you been able to tell cars apart?" he questioned.

Lisa blinked at the ceiling. Ianto persisted in displaying uneasiness regarding her enhanced abilities, which was illogical given how useful they were, but still, he must be pacified for now. He'd understand, soon enough.

"I can't," she lied. "But I've been hearing the garage door open every day since you brought me here. It's easy enough to pick out when there isn't a great deal of traffic up there." She laughed, pleased at how similar to Toshiko's laugh it sounded. "And Tosh is always in before Owen, so obviously it'll be her car."

"Oh, I see," Ianto mumbled. The mattress creaked. Lisa remained vigilant until his breathing slowed again. She preferred it when he slept. This caring girlfriend persona was a strain, but Lisa had to admit it smoothed the way better than any other technique she'd found. Toshiko approved of it, too.

Toshiko had been right to restrict the drugs, Lisa told herself, even as a renewed ache washed through her. The drugs numbed the pain, true, but they also blurred her thinking. All her abilities, for that matter. Lisa couldn't have picked out the sound of Owen's car from Toshiko's while muddled with those drugs. Even the pain was an unexpected blessing, sharpening her mental focus, renewing her distaste for the frailty of the human flesh.

It wouldn't have done to tell Ianto that though. It would upset him, and Toshiko didn't like for Ianto to be upset. Toshiko liked it when Lisa enacted the caring girlfriend routine, and what her future Cybercontroller approved, Lisa would perform, within reason of course, and making allowances for emotional excesses.

Lisa found herself remarkably reconciled to the concept of handing power over to Toshiko. The Cybermind held an inherent desire for power, but vanity was completely absent. Toshiko's human brain was far superior to Lisa's, therefore Toshiko's cybermind would also be far superior. It made sense for the most powerful to lead. Lisa would be content to follow, when she had shaped Toshiko into a force worthy to lead.

_The Cybercontroller will remember and reward the one who pleased her, the one who brought her to power. Certainly enough to keep me alive, maybe even to the extent of that complete upgrade. _

_Toshiko will keep Ianto, too, of course. He'd been instrumental in their rise to power. _

_Human bodies have their uses. Especially the pretty ones. Like Ianto's._

-XXX-

Rhys' voice called Gwen from her nightmare. She woke, shuddering in his arms, shivering and drenched with sweat.

"Bad day, love?" Rhys asked, strong hand sliding through her hair, his very presence bringing her heartbeat back to normal. "Never mind, maybe you'll win that transfer and get off the beat soon."

Gwen nodded against the firm chest, hands scrunching into his T-shirt, literally biting her tongue against the torrent of words trying to spill out. She longed to confide in him, her steady, sensible Rhys, but how could she explain that that her mythical new job was the source of the nightmares? Visions where the doomed hospital porter wore Rhys' face. Where Suzie's bullet entered not Jack's skull, but Rhys'. Rhys, who wouldn't get back up again, even in her dreams.

It might not happen, Gwen told herself, as she snuggled back into Rhys' side. She'd not heard anything from Torchwood since leaving Jack on that rooftop, and for the life of her she couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or bad.

Sometimes Gwen thought Torchwood was keeping her waiting as a test of sorts, and the possible consequences of a slip of the tongue brought their own nightmares. Other times she was convinced the job offer was a fake. A ploy to ensure her silence, because of course she wouldn't risk gossip about the secret organization if she intended to join its ranks, would she? A ploy that was working. Apart from anything else, she'd never live down the humiliation at the station if she bragged and nothing came of it.

Sometimes Gwen was afraid that she'd never hear from Torchwood again.

The rest of the time, she was afraid she would.

_Again I apologise for the huge gap between updates. My muses all ran off to drool over Sherlock (and I really can't blame them too much…) but I am committed to finishing all my Torchwood fics and will try to do better. Thanks for reading._


	44. Chapter 44

_Thank you to everyone who continues to support this fic. Still laying ground for Gwen's arrival. __Slightly Janto-heavy chapter, hope that's OK._

Tosh threw herself into a seat at the boardroom table, the one directly across from Ianto, and glared at the world in general. Her self-imposed solitude last night had led to a lonely evening and a restless night, her sleep broken by confusing dreams which even now taunted the edges of her memory. More significantly, on a level she was only partly aware of, the lack of company meant nothing to distract from the vicious circling of her thoughts.

The recent painful visits with Lisa seemed to have gotten into her very bloodstream, filtering through every action, every word, invading every thought. Tosh's eyes still stung whenever she let herself dwell on Lisa's constant demonstration of the type of love Tosh had never thought to find outside the pages of a romance novel.

It had gotten to the point where Ianto's ongoing refusal to accept Lisa's sacrifice felt vaguely offensive, bizarre as that sounded. Somehow, Tosh couldn't quite shake the impression that Ianto's behavior now more closely resembled penance than nobility.

Just_ look_ at him, for goodness sake. Look at them _both_, engaged in what amounted to a mating dance around the Hub. Concentrated today, in the boardroom, for your distinct lack of viewing pleasure, if you happened to be present. Tosh could almost hear Owen's sarcastic comments – the ones he'd mutter loud enough for her to hear, if he and Tosh were on speaking terms, which they weren't, and probably never would be again, which had absolutely nothing to do with Toshiko's current mood, thank you very much, even if she did have to concede that it wasn't helping her patience with the situation.

Ianto had placed himself as far away from Jack's usual seat as possible while still sitting at the boardroom table, hiding behind his laptop and surrounded by stacks of files. He might consider it a barrier, but Tosh was strongly reminded of those birds who built mounds of twigs to attract a mate. And there was Jack, strutting around in his WWII plumage, taking every conceivable opportunity to mention how lovely it would be when Gwen arrived, singing her praises with half an eye on Ianto to see how the younger man reacted. Seriously! Did he really think mooning over Gwen would make Ianto jealous enough to throw himself back into Jack's arms? Did Ianto really think he was fooling anyone with his show of indifference? Especially when his supposed barrier of files managed to spread further every meeting, bridging the distance between himself and Jack. Idiots, the pair of them.

Tosh had been aware it for months now. Lisa had known from floors below, and there, in her cellar, she'd developed the perfect solution, at whatever cost to herself. What Lisa couldn't give Ianto anymore, Jack was not only able, but willing, and Ianto had Lisa's blessing, if he could just get himself past all the noble suffering. Tosh didn't share Lisa's opinion that the men felt nothing for each other beyond the physical, but that wasn't necessarily a problem. Ianto's heart was quite big enough for two, and Jack, if his outrageous stories held even the slightest grain of truth, neither sought nor expected fidelity.

It would be so perfect…..Tosh gave herself a mental shake. Past tense, she told herself, biting back the welling frustration. It _could_ _have been_ as close to perfect as they were likely to get. It _would have been_ if Owen hadn't been so incompetent. They _could have _had it all. Could have _kept_ it all.

Past tense wasn't helping. It only made her feel as though it was all over - before it had a chance to properly begin.

Men, Tosh concluded, were idiots. All of them.

Especially Owen.

The seat beside Tosh creaked quietly, as if Owen didn't want her to notice him sitting there, when he could quite easily have chosen the one on the other side. Between Ianto and Jack. Yeah, OK, maybe she understood. Tosh wouldn't have chosen to sit between those two lately, either. The tension between them was liable to set fire to someone's hair.

-XXX-

Jack sauntered into the boardroom, showing no signs of how alert he was to the nuances of behavior of the people within.

The dynamics were off, he noticed, as he lowered himself into his usual place at the end of the table and buried his nose in his coffee mug. The atmosphere felt skewed, but it wasn't anything obvious. There was a bit too much paper shuffling, probably to excuse the lack of eye contact, and a complete lack of irreverent comments floating around table. Nothing he'd have paid attention to a while back – before Suzie. Before Suzie and After Suzie, the new divider of his tenure as leader of Torchwood. The extent of his trusted lieutenant's betrayal shook him still, shredding his complacency in his command. Apart from the more immediate concerns, it was disquieting to realize he no longer had someone to trust with the guardianship of his team after he found the Doctor.

The empty seat at Jack's right hand stung more sharply that the vacancies around the table at the pub. An empty seat in the boardroom was unavoidable at the moment, but it shouldn't be_ that_ one, with Ianto sitting further down, directly across from Tosh, surrounded by a flurry of files and laptop, his mute alibi for the vacant seat nearer to Jack. Jack wasn't fooled for a second, but he_ would_ have liked to know whether Ianto had chosen the position for its proximity to Toshiko or its distance from Jack himself.

Jack hid a sigh in his coffee cup. He'd thought himself resigned to the 'so far and no further' arrangement between himself and Ianto, but it felt far too much like as though he'd walked into his favorite club to find his VIP status revoked. There were wonders to be found on the other side of the velvet rope, but to approach the barrier was to invite rejection.

He could of course stage a distraction and sneak across, but that might just be too much effort, even for him. Then again….hadn't he just turned his back on two attractive women because they weren't enough of a challenge? Hmmm.

Owen cleared his throat, quite obviously. Owen, seated at Jack's left, with Tosh next to him. Neither looked particularly happy with the arrangement, yet they'd chosen adjacent seats. Interesting. Had they sorted matters between them, or was the explanation - for Tosh at least –sitting on the opposite side of the table fiddling with his tie?

Jack shuffled his own papers, hurriedly reassessing his plans for this meeting. If Tosh and Owen had reached some sort of resolution, it would be counterproductive to drag it up again. Of course, if they hadn't, leaving it to fester would only make things worse. Jack sent up a devout prayer to whatever God might listen for some sort of insight on these things, and Gwen's face filled his mind in response. Ah yes, Gwen. Gwen would understand the emotions seething beneath the surface personas of Torchwood, and he could leave the unraveling of it in her hands. For now – wait and see.

Jack cleared his throat and set his coffee mug down – on its coaster, but he wasn't going to examine the implications of that, it was just manners and really didn't have anything to do with being worried about annoying Ianto by leaving rings on the table.

"OK gang," he began. "We've had a busy few days and no time to touch base, so let's begin before the Rift spits out something else. First on the agenda, if I'd written one, would be our new recruit." He looked up expectantly.

"I've already received approval of her temporary secondment to Special Ops," Ianto said briskly. "They're waiting on us to supply a transfer date. Technically, she's Torchwood already, Sir. It's your call as to exactly when she begins."

"Temporary?" Jack repeated, brows and hackles rising. "And since when do we need _approval_?"

"An exercise in un-ruffling feathers," Ianto answered, as if that were an end to it. Tosh smiled in understanding. The police resented them enough already without adding random poaching to the mix. Ianto had become very skilled at arranging it so people were not only unaware of being manipulated, but frequently grateful, which sent her thoughts straying onto a far less professional path.

Owen snorted. Jack's eyebrows rose further. Ianto returned Tosh's smile, ignored the snort and addressed the eyebrows.

"Heddlu are no doubt fully aware that they can't refuse Torchwood's request," he explained rapidly. "But following procedure allows them a semblance of control, and throwing in 'temporary' sidesteps the expected grief about leaving them undermanned. Eventually the HR department will realize they've got a position they can't use, at which point they'll request that we make her permanent so they can fill her place and we'll be doing them a favor when we agree."

Ianto sat back with the air of a job well done. Tosh's eyes twinkled across at him. "It never hurts to have Heddlu owing us a favor," she agreed.

Beside her, Owen snorted again. "God save us from pencil pushers," he muttered.

Jack shook his head, partly to rouse himself from the vowel-induced daze, partly at the sheer scope of the undercurrents swirling around the room. "I'm just glad someone knows how to navigate the twisted paths of bureaucracy on our behalf," he admitted. "Does Gwen know about her own transfer yet?"

Ianto nodded, glancing up from his keyboard in acknowledgement. "Assuming she was clever enough not to delete the email from Cardiff Tourism without reading it. I've sent another to her at Heddlu, just in case. I can have her mobile couriered to her whenever you're ready, Sir, and then you can confirm her start date personally."

Jack chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. "I don't know if that's enough. She might need something more concrete after all the cloak-and-dagger."

Owen sniffed. "Not so much cloak and dagger as long coat and big guns, I assume? Oh, and teeth. Let's not forget the teeth."

Jack obligingly unleashed his best cheesy grin. "Nor do I want to overwhelm her," he said. "A suit and a smile, I thought. Ianto, you'll be playing courier."

Ianto inclined his head. "As long as I don't have to ride a bicycle," he agreed.

The flippant response startled Jack into looking directly at Ianto, an uncertain smile hovering on his lips and the image of Ianto in Lycra dancing before his eyes. "She'll probably have a few questions," Jack hazarded, figuring he ought to say something since his mouth had fallen open.

Ianto met his gaze properly this time, and for an instant it was like it used to be. Comfortable. Slightly dangerous. Comfortably dangerous.

"I imagine so, Sir," Ianto agreed. "I also imagine you'd rather I field them so you've nothing left to do except be mysterious."

Tosh giggled. Owen made a sound that might be muffled laughter, if he wasn't trying so hard to appear disapproving. He couldn't really have said whether he was pleased at having someone else shoot holes in Jack's pretensions, or annoyed at Jack for not only allowing it, but lapping it up.

Jack grinned. "One of the perks of command." Unless he was very much mistaken, the ice was not only broken but thawing nicely. Progress. In the interest of an amicable working environment, of course.

"So, _are_ we ready for Gwen?" he asked, casting his eyes around the table in enquiry. "There's no point prodding Heddlu along if we aren't, but it's been," he paused to check his watch "over twelve hours with no alerts, and yes, Owen, I know I'm tempting fate saying that. I don't want to miss the chance to get her up to speed before the next spike."

Tosh answered first. "Her workstation's ready," she announced, managing to look _around _Owen to meet Jack's eyes. Jack tried not to sigh too obviously as he fare-welled any hope of Tosh and Owen had resolving their dispute without intervention.

"We wouldn't dare let her in without that, would we?" Owen said mockingly. "God forbid she captures an alien and can't log it into the database."

Jack frowned. Oh well, he told himself, with a stab at being philosophical, better they have it out in a controlled environment. There wasn't anything for them to throw at each other in the boardroom, after all. At least, nothing lethal.

"I've loaded the standard software packages onto it," Tosh continued smoothly, as though there'd been no intervening sarcasm.

Owen snickered. "We _have_ a standard?"

"So I just need to know if you want her to have any particular restrictions or access to any additional programs," Tosh finished.

Jack awarded her a mental round of applause for not responding to Owen's goading. The only indication she'd heard Owen's interjections was the way she'd raised her voice to speak over him. It was clever of her. Damned clever. Owen could handle anything except being ignored. Jack wasn't surprised that Tosh knew it, but he _was_ kind of impressed that she obviously intended to use it. As he always said, you had to watch the quiet ones. And, not that he was enjoying this or anything, but Jack suspected that Toshiko, as with most people who kept themselves firmly under control, was nothing short of magnificent when finally pushed over the edge.

"So we have a standard that varies," Owen put in brightly, stubbornly. "How very Torchwood."

Tosh heaved a huge, theatrical sigh, and finally turned to Owen, her face arranged into a bland expression that Ianto couldn't have bettered. Outwardly placid, yet she was seething inside. Owen's behavior during the autopsy he'd _asked _her to assist with had finally pushed Tosh to the limits of her efforts to be whatever the hell it was Owen wanted of her, and she was even more fed up with her insane desire to please him.

It didn't help that she had the constant example of Lisa and Ianto, suffering and sacrificing for each other on a daily basis, as a contrast to the mockery of anything she'd ever hoped to have with Owen.

It _would_ help if Owen could be the slightest bit consistent though, Tosh thought resentfully. First he'd been flaunting his affair with Suzie, then he'd gone all courtly with Tosh herself, followed by a very gentle but no less definite for that _rejection_. If friendship was all Owen wanted, as he insisted, then why, why, _why the hell_ had he spent the entire autopsy quite literally breathing down her neck and hanging off her every word? Especially when he'd followed up by scolding her like an errant child when she'd tried to examine the artifact? Honestly, it was no wonder her hands hadn't been at their usual level of steadiness.

Enough was enough, Tosh told herself firmly. She'd never understand him and it was time she stopped trying, stopped making excuses for him. Nor would she continue to sit quietly as he belittled her or her work – _or_ her friend.

Resolve fired her veins like arousal ought to, but never did, not any more.

"Torchwood does have protocols, Owen," Tosh said coolly. "And while it may surprise you to know they exist for a reason, fortunately _some_ of us understand that, considering how much it apparently amuses you to disregard guidelines which have been in place for centuries and leave the rest of us to sort out the havoc you leave behind."

Owen looked like he'd stood on a bee, Tosh thought with satisfaction – or more aptly, as though the bee had stung his foot just as he trod on it.

"Oi," Owen protested to the room at large. "I wasn't alone out there, y'know." He pointed an accusing finger at Jack. "It was as much his fault as mine."

Jack looked over his shoulder, conducting a mock search for whoever Owen might be pointing at, purely to give himself a moment to compose his expression. Whatever had happened to set this off, Owen seeking to shift the blame was only slightly less amusing than Tosh on the warpath. Jack bit his lip, trying to maintain an air of indifference while he decided how to react, given that his initial impulse to cheer Tosh on would be no more appropriate than releasing the laughter bubbling in his chest. A sideways glance at Ianto was enough to convince him there'd be no help from that quarter. The twitch at the corner of the young man's mouth wasn't helping Jack's struggle for composure, not on any level.

"Maybe it's escaped _your _notice, but I had two Gryllidae dying on me," Owen continued, bristling. He wasn't blind to the veiled amusement all around him, and it put him firmly on the defensive. "If you're that fussed about collecting random tech, Toshiko," he concluded with spiteful triumph. "You should've been there yourself."

There was the heart of it, Jack thought, subdued by the sudden insight. Owen was no less happy than Jack himself about Tosh choosing to remain at the Hub with Ianto. And he'd been the one telling Jack to get over it! A classic example of 'do as I say, not as I do.' At least Jack wasn't letting it spill over into work – much.

"The alert registered no significant tech," Tosh shot back, eyes blazing.

Owen snorted. "Program needs work, then."

A manila folder slid its way to a point midway between Jack and Ianto. Jack was momentarily tempted to ignore it. After all, Ianto wouldn't _have _to be angling for Jack's attention if he was sitting where he was supposed to, close enough to slip Jack the file with no one else the wiser. Still, with Owen and Tosh ready to fall on each others' necks, and not in a good way, pride lost out to good sense. Jack captured the edge of the file with his fingertips, drew it in with a flickering smile of gratitude, and had to bite back a pained laugh after skimming the paperwork within. Owen really didn't know which battles to pick.

Jack cleared his throat, pointedly. Silence fell. "Tech fused to a life-form registers as medical," he announced. "Has done for a while."

"Oh," Owen sat back, frowning. "Well, that's pretty stupid. Who the bloody hell put that in?"

"That would be you, Owen," Jack intervened; before Owen went on to blame the resident technician for the supposed system fault. "According to the request in front of me."

Tosh smiled, but it wasn't one of her nicer ones. "Go ahead and check your signature, Owen," she urged. "I'm sure it's all in order, considering our Archivist is another of those misguided souls who worries about complying with these annoying procedures."

Ianto looked up, blinking, either alarmed at being drawn further into the bickering or holding back tears of mirth. Jack was going for the latter, until Ianto caught his eye, delivering what felt like a reproach with a single glance. Jack sobered abruptly. Ianto was right. This might be entertaining, but it had the potential to become quite nasty. Especially as Jack had the sinking feeling that Owen had initially lodged that request, amongst a batch of others, in response to Suzie claiming the glove for her own research. They didn't need the conflict going there.

Owen began to bluster, Tosh parried with a poisonous sweetness so unlike her that Jack actually began to feel sickened. A fresh vision of Gwen drifted through his mind, unspoiled and uncorrupted. He could almost see her wafting through the Hub like a spring breeze, calming, cleansing…..and really he spent enough time on fantasies already, without introducing a new element. A new Welsh element, at that. He'd been in Cardiff far too long.

"Whoa!" Jack raised his hands, summoning silence. "Enough, you two. Now explain what's really going on here before I send you both into a corner."

Tosh bit her lip. "Sorry, Jack. We've had…um…"

"She went mental on me during the autopsy," Owen said, his voice crossing over Tosh's.

"That'll do, Owen," Jack ordered, glaring the doctor into silence. "Toshiko, you seem to be the one with the grievance, you go first."

Tosh wilted only slightly under his demanding gaze. "I was assisting Owen with the autopsy on the Gryllidae," she began.

Jack nodded. Odd for that to be the point of contention. Last he'd known Owen was quite eager for Tosh's input.

"And she stuck a probe into it," Owen interrupted. "Without protective gear or anything, crazy bint. And _she's _the one ranting over following procedures! She's as bad as you, Harkness. It could've been…"

"Live?" Tosh asked, demonstrating untapped reserves of sarcasm. "Excuse me for assuming you're skilled enough to confirm lack of life signs _before _preparing a subject for autopsy,_ Dr_ Harper."

Owen's face twisted with an offence only a slight on his medical skills could achieve. "Residual energy," he began.

Jack raised a hand again. "Enough! I expect you to be professional enough to explain calmly, Toshiko. And I expect _you_ to let her finish a sentence out without interrupting, Owen."

Owen glowered. Tosh sank into her seat. Jack motioned her to continue.

"The helmet showed every sign of being powered by the body wearing it," Tosh said, falling back into her usual professional demeanor, only more so. "No evidence of a remote or attached power source. Nor any sign of a control mechanism, further decreasing the likelihood of triggering a reaction. I considered it safe to attempt separation, which was consequently achieved without injury beyond a mild static electricity burst."

Owen remained silent under Jack's restraining glare, but this was unfair, damn it! He could still feel the sheer terror spiking through him when the helmet sparked as Tosh inserted the probe beneath it. He'd yanked her away, a bit roughly, perhaps, and maybe there'd been one too many insults, but hell, that was only how he covered up when he was panicking. Tosh had taken his intervention as a slight on her competence, and it'd gone downhill from there.

"If you were right about it being a medical device," Tosh continued, "it's logical to assume remote operation, though I understand you were unable to retrieve one from the impact site." Report concluded, in spite of Owen's opposition, the technician folded her hands and looked enquiringly at Jack, completely ignoring the seething medic between them.

Jack shot Owen a rueful glance. Now that Tosh had explained her reasoning, it was painfully obvious that they should have been giving the supposed life support device some form of direction, instead of swearing at it for not performing.

"We didn't find one," Jack hedged. Truth was, they hadn't checked. He _was_ sure there'd been nothing outside the ruined craft, but neither he nor Owen had thought to inspect the interior, beyond a hasty scan while getting the passengers clear. And now it was ashes, the craft and everything it contained.

"You did, however, find a basketball ring," Ianto pointed out. Sighs ran around the table, antagonism subsiding as the middle ground was supplied, albeit with an edge of sarcasm. Evidence of a search, not a thorough one, but perhaps enough to pacify Tosh and save Owen's face. Ianto to the rescue again, Jack thought, with a comment that would have fitted nicely on a post-it note if Ianto hadn't sat too far away to pass it to him. And, really, if he couldn't pull himself out of this pitiful mindset soon, he'd have no choice but to lock himself into his bunker with ice-cream and his collection of Glen Miller CDs.

"We did," Owen agreed, swallowing down the remnants of anger. He wasn't stupid enough to ignore an offer of escape, regardless of who offered it. "But that was fun. Or it will be, after I've mounted it."

"Not so much fun for those who had to carry it," Jack said, before Tosh could unleash whatever was brewing behind that huge breath she'd just drawn.

"Just wait until I get it mounted," Owen insisted. "You'll be thanking me for the morale boost. And we'll need a basketball, Teaboy."

Ianto looked up enquiringly. "Would you prefer Spalding or Molten?"

"Nike, smartass," Owens shot back.

Ianto made a note. On a clipboard. Obviously Owen's requests didn't make it into the laptop. Jack wondered what would be the appropriate show of gratitude for the way Ianto had so smoothly defused the situation and decided against all of those that leapt most easily to mind. Maybe he was learning, after all.

Tosh shook her head, but managed to keep any further retort behind her lips. Yes, they'd conducted a cursory search, which was probably as much as she could reasonably expect given two patients and what Owen referred to as a bog-standard vessel to be demolished. But, oh it was so frustrating! If they were right about its function, the possibilities of that Gryllidae helmet were staggering.

_Mobile life support. _Mobile life support with the potential to be compatible with humans….with _one _human…

OK, maybe she was overreacting. Just another artifact, and since when did they ever get complete artifacts? But if she could have operated it…if the control mechanism wasn't missing….Tosh inhaled heavily and let the thought form fully on the exhale, in the forlorn hope that if she let it out it would cease taunting her.

_If this is a form of __**mobile**__ life support and __**I**__ can modify it to be compatible with __**Lisa**__, then __**I**__ can free her. I can free them __**both**__. They won't need Tanizaki. Won't __**owe**__ Tanizaki._

_They won't have to leave….._

Jack's voice jerked Tosh back to reality. She couldn't use the device on Lisa if she couldn't operate it. She couldn't operate it with its control mechanism missing. She might well have the ability to devise a replacement mechanism, but neither the time nor resources.

She had to stop torturing herself with what could have been if Owen ever extended himself beyond the boundaries defined by 'the absolute minimal effort I can get away with and still look like I'm doing something'. Ianto and Lisa would leave with Tanizaki, and it wouldn't matter to Tosh because all she'd remember was a secretive colleague whom she'd felt vaguely sorry for and might have been friends with if he hadn't run away.

"Owen's justified in saying it was as much my fault as his that we missed the control unit, if there was one," Jack conceded. Tosh suspected it was some kind of summary and wondered what she'd missed in the interim. Never mind, Ianto could fill her in later. Jack was talking to Owen now, anyway, so at least he hadn't expected a response.

"We've become reliant on having someone on hand for salvage, Owen, which was fine while we had two team members with technical expertise. But we don't have that luxury anymore so we it's up to us to be more thorough on-site when Tosh is busy elsewhere."

Owen frowned. "Yeah, fair enough I suppose." He'd been thinking the new girl would step up, but obviously that was impractical. Jack was taking Gwen on to fill Suzie's position, but she'd pull up far short of filling her shoes.

Not that they wanted Gwen taking up where Suzie left off, did they? Apart from perhaps taking up the cold spot in Owen's bed…. The Newbie was quite welcome to that, if she liked…

"Now, Toshiko." Jack's gaze fell on her, and Tosh was relieved that this time she was paying attention. "I can understand you're upset about part of the artifact possibly being overlooked," Jack continued, "but surely you agree that Owen's priority must be the patient?"

Tosh nodded stiffly, biting her tongue on a scathing comment about how differently Jack would be reacting if it were part of a weapon missing. She already knew how he'd respond and she wasn't in the mood to hear it again. 'Arming the human race' was in Torchwood's remit, saving it or parts thereof was just a by-product of the process.

Owen looked mollified, possibly smug, but also refrained from commenting. If Toshiko wanted to string him up for giving a damn about her safety, yeah, fine with him, he'd not bother next time. Save his energy for patching her up afterwards.

Jack was still watching Tosh, a smile beginning to play about his lips. She was entitled to be disappointed, he had to admit, and she'd handled it well, considering. "I'm sure you can build a replacement remote for the device, if it needs one," he suggested, and nearly laughed at her reaction. Not quite a squeal of delight, but close.

"Getting back to the matter on the table," Jack prompted. "I assume we're ready to welcome Gwen as soon as the Rift gives us the chance?"

There were shrugs and nods. Evidently the uproar over the new hire was last week's drama.

"A bit of enthusiasm would've been nice," Jack muttered. "That's it, then. Go do whatever you've got on before the Rift sends us scrambling again."

Jack watched them shuffle papers and scrape chairs, watched Owen and Tosh depart in different directions. He should have spoken to either of them - to both of them - but the name that fell easiest from his lips was "Ianto." Jack knew he was about to second-guess himself, and Ianto was the least painful audience, given that any of the young man's illusions regarding the Captain were already as shattered as they'd ever become.

The laptop closed with a quiet click. "Yes Sir?"

Jack nodded in the direction of Tosh's departing back. "Toshiko doesn't usually fire up like that," he commented. "Tell me, did I make a mistake letting her lose on that artifact?"

Ianto looked at him blankly, hoping his hurriedly assumed mask was sufficient to cover the turmoil beneath. "I'm not quite sure what you're asking, Sir," he said cautiously.

Jack sighed. This was the right thing to do, however much it pained him, both to ask and to acknowledge that Ianto was the best person _to_ ask. But he hated it when Ianto played dumb.

"This wouldn't even have occurred to me a week ago, but …how far do you think Tosh's connection with this artifact goes?"

Jack cringed inside as the shutters slammed down visibly over those blue eyes, having belatedly remembered the relationship between Ianto and Toshiko – if one still existed, if one ever_ had_ existed outside of his and Owen's fervent speculation – was supposedly a secret.

"I'm not sure why are you asking me, Sir," Ianto said, not coldly, but with an absence of warmth. He was surprised he could force out any speech at all, with the blood in his veins chilling with fear. Not for himself, nor for Lisa. For Tosh. For brave, loyal, beautiful, fearful, fragile Tosh.

They'd decided, right back when she first agreed to help Lisa, that Tosh' safety lay in no-one recognising anything deeper between them than a working relationship. A friendly acquaintance perhaps, but no more than that. It would keep Tosh clear of suspicion if Lisa were found, free of pressure after they'd left. And yet, there'd been so much going on lately….had they not been careful enough? Ianto felt his heart slamming against his ribs. If Jack suspected that Tosh knew where Ianto had gone after he and Lisa fled, he might ….. he might….Retcon could be broken through, Gwen had proved that, and Jack would not only know how, but was ruthless enough to do whatever it took.

"Because you took it away from her," Jack said smoothly, schooling his features into lines of polite enquiry through sheer force of will. "Did she resist giving it up?"

Ianto bit his lip against the babble trying to escape as relief replaced the fear. Both Lisa's safety and his own had depended on interpreting Jack's expressions for a long while now, and even taking into account that Jack was as skilled at himself at masking emotion, or faking it, the face looking back at him was concerned, even troubled, but not accusing.

A possible obsession over another artifact - indeed, not something they'd have thought of taking into account – before Suzie. On a professional level it made sense for Jack to question the Archivist, who'd be responsible for securing the piece in question. On a personal level it both hurt and soothed that Jack still trusted him enough to show doubt in himself and his decisions, as he wouldn't to Owen, who'd seize on the weakness, or Tosh, who couldn't handle seeing her any weakness in her shield against the world.

Ianto frowned in thought, putting personal considerations aside, wanting to give a reasoned answer rather than an emotional one.

Eventually, he shook his head. No, not Tosh, at least, not this time. Tosh loved her work, of course she did, but Ianto had no doubts as to what was spurring her interest in this particular device, and he was already trying to work out how to put her off without seeming ungrateful. And Jack was waiting for an answer.

"Not _that_ far, I wouldn't say, Sir," Ianto said eventually. He smiled faintly. "If I might venture an opinion, Sir, I'd say that if Toshiko were to obsess, it would be over people, not machines." With any luck, that would to switch Jack's focus back onto the dispute between Tosh and Owen.

Jack frowned. "She took that data recorder home," he pointed out. "Against regulations."

Ianto shrugged, trying not to show his dismay over Jack's refusal to be diverted. "Everyone took something home, as I recall."

"_You_ didn't," Jack said. A teasing smile crept naturally to his lips. "I've been wondering if I should have thanked you."

Ianto bit back a groan. He'd been expecting something like this, known it was a risk involved in trying to scale down the animosity between himself and Jack. That was practically an invitation to dance, that was. Another figure in the ridiculous dance they'd been doing around each other from the day they'd met, in some form or the other. Apparently it was turn to lead.

His turn. His choice. Intrigue or honesty. Accept the false accolade, or reject it and risk Jack's anger, shake his faith further. A chance to work his way deeper into Jack's trust, or a chance to be honest. Ianto drew a deep breath and decided; as he had so many times before, that if he was careful he could do both. The truth, and nothing but, but not the whole truth. Easier on his conscience than outright falsehood, at least.

Jack's anger would be a fair price to pay, especially if it diverted suspicion from Tosh, and if it put a damper on Jack's ardor as well, so much the better. If Jack didn't ask, Ianto wouldn't have to consider how he'd answer. Or why.

Ianto drew in a deep breath. "It'd be false gratitude, Sir. The only reason I wasn't part of your amnesty operation was because I'd brought my piece back weeks ago."

Jack watched him with no change of expression for long enough to have Ianto twitching inside his suit, and then laughed. A low, pained laugh peculiarly devoid of humor.

"You do realize I'd never have known that if you hadn't said anything, don't you?"

Ianto's Adam's apple jumped in his throat, the only outward sign of whatever was going on behind that pretty face. "Yes Sir, I do realize that."

Beneath an indolent gaze and equally lazy smile, Jack's mind was churning. It was true, he'd never have known about Ianto's transgression– he ran the goddamned archives after all. So what was the purpose of the confession….except…..except…..? Yes, possibly. Well, maybe. Or not…. Who knew, with Ianto? In a long, long life where nothing seemed new anymore, Ianto never failed to surprise. He was, in fact, a challenge, such as those two dolly-birds last night could never hope to match. A challenge which, for the first time in his admittedly selective memory, Jack had no idea whether he could meet, and damned if that didn't make his heart beat just a little faster.

"Soooo," Jack drawled, drawing on his best poker face to match Ianto's impassive mask. "Why the sudden urge to confess?"

"You asked," Ianto replied stonily. "Or at least, you were working up to asking." _And, _whispered an insidious voice which for some reason sounded like Lisa_, if I give him this, he's less likely to look for more. _

Jack rested his head on his fists. "What did you take?" he asked, with more curiosity than alarm. He was interested to know what Ianto considered worth the risk of smuggling out. "More importantly, why? Why take something home when you had full access to it in the Archives?"

Ianto shifted restlessly in his seat, cursing his impulsive decision to speak, to confess, to unload another layer of guilt, regardless of whatever justification he'd woven around it. He should've known this would be next. Still, there was no point inventing something innocuous now, and_ He's forgotten to be suspicious of Tosh already _and _If I do this right, it might go a fair way towards dissuading pursuit after we're gone. _

Ianto shook his head, dispelling the thoughts which didn't feel like his own, at least, not any he wanted to have. He was trying to be_ less_ deceptive, not more.

"It's something like a recording device, only it records the functions of whatever piece of tech you load to it," he explained, rattling off the data in much the same way he'd explained the reasoning behind Gwen's transfer. "A device to give the appearance of possessing another device. I seem to recall you referred to it as vanity technology."

Jack blinked. "Yeah, I remember, fairly useless piece I'd have thought." He frowned. "What did you want with that, Ianto?"

Ianto inhaled heavily, trying to steady his thumping heart. He'd have to go carefully. This was where it strayed from honesty into manipulation, even though everything he was about to say was true. "I used it to mimic the GPS in my car, Sir."

The boardroom had suddenly become very quiet. Ianto's words seemed to echo back off the walls, or maybe that was the effect of Jack's pulse hammering in his ears. If Ianto hadn't immediately fixed his eyes on the cover of his laptop, he would have seen the rare sight of the beginnings of a blush staining Jack's cheeks.

"You knew I'd been checking up on you," Jack said softly, hands dropping to the table with a thud. _Stalker much?_ Owen's voice mocked, from where it'd burned a spot into his brain. "And you didn't want me know where you were."

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't out of contact, Sir," he said, a shade defensively. "I would have responded to my phone. I just…" He swallowed. "I'm a private person, Sir."

Something simmered low in Jack's gut. Guilt? Perhaps. He'd told himself that he was only trying to monitor the least seasoned of his team, but still, he'd checked a time or two more than he should have. Anger? Hell yes, how dare this …this…_boy _manage to get Jack Harkness behaving like a teenager after his first breakup?

But mostly, oh yes, mostly embarrassment, verging on humiliation, as Jack recalled all those times he'd logged out, reassured to find Ianto at his flat. With…with no other Torchwood GPSs registering in close proximity, because he'd checked that too. All false reassurance, obviously...and it wasn't his own privacy Ianto was worried about, hell no. Jack had no doubt Ianto was prepared to take whatever risks he considered necessary – it was practically a selection criteria for Torchwood, after all – but it wouldn't be for his own protection. So, given that, what more likely than Ianto attempting to safeguard Tosh's virtue by making it appear that he was home alone when he was at her place? All those times….all those nights while Jack lay unsatisfied in his bunker, sighing like some Victorian maiden.

"You brought it back, though," Jack noted, speaking through clenched teeth, nails biting into his own palms. "So what, you stopped feeling the need for privacy? You're fine with me checking up on you now?" His voice took on a tone that Jack was faintly disgusted to hear from himself. "Or maybe you're hoping I will? Is that it?"

Ianto's cheeks burned in response. It was still quite possible, Jack considered, with a guilty surge of optimism, that those nights had been as devoid of satisfaction for Ianto as they'd been for Jack. Tosh might not be there yet, might _never _be there, not after what happened to her in Unit's tender care. And, unlike Jack, Ianto was far too much of a gentleman to persist.

But, watching as Ianto flinched from his tone, from the eyes pinning him in place, with feet shuffling beneath the table like a schoolboy in the principal's office, Jack instantly felt ashamed of himself for once again trying to imbue Ianto with the devious turnings of his own mind. Jack could recall more than one occasion where he'd let slip his knowledge of where Ianto had been.

_Stalker, much._

It was equally possible, Jack admitted to himself, that Ianto had been uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and found a means to avoid it without awkward confrontation. Which Jack was now supplying. At least, Jack thought, watching entranced as the color continued to sweep across Ianto's cheeks, as a tongue sneaked out to moisten dry lips - at least he'd managed to restrain the line about installing cameras as well.

Ianto felt Jack's eyes on him, but for once he didn't bother to fight the blush, didn't bother to conceal the surge of humiliation. It was helping his case, he thought miserably, and was the least he deserved for speaking without thinking things through. Maybe he'd lightened his conscience another fraction, but at what cost? Now he had Jack's hackles up, now Jack was suspicious. Ianto raged at himself for his impulsive confession. He could have found another way to divert the flirtation – hell, he could have _responded_ to the flirtation, satisfied Jack's cravings, and his own, and no-one would blame him for it. Tosh might even stop dropping those hints Lisa must have been encouraging her to drop.

Ianto let his forehead sink onto his palms, perilously close to thumping it on the cover of his laptop. He should have known better than to get them both embroiled in something that would touch Jack's ego. His mind swirled frantically, desperate for any way of turning this around, of making it right, or at least less terribly wrong.

Jack rose to his feet in one smooth motion, not even scraping his chair against the floor as he moved. Before he was quite conscious of taking a step, he found himself hovering over Ianto, one hand drifting to rest on the young man's shoulder. Beneath his palm, through layers of cloth, blood surged, flesh trembled, and Jack trembled too, all the while fighting an impulse to seize what hadn't yet been offered.

Ianto's head remained bowed, the very image of defeat, or perhaps submission, yet the muscles beneath Jack's hand were locked with tension. It could be true naiveté or just a good imitation, and for all his experience Jack couldn't tell which.

Either way, to take advantage now would be a mistake, Jack decided. A short-term win at best, however briefly satisfying, a source of long-term resentment at worst. Rash behavior could cost him the prize, if there was even a prize to be won. No, best to leave it for now. The game, as Sherlock Holmes said - and what a hottie he'd been - given that very repressed era, was on.

Jack reluctantly removed the hand from Ianto's shoulder, waving it dismissively when Ianto's head rose. "Forget it. I shouldn't have asked. The others got amnesty; it's hardly fair of me to grill you." He brushed his hands together, brushing aside the whole conversation. "I'll monitor the Rift for a bit, then let you know when I want Gwen's phone delivered, OK?"

Ianto blinked, swallowed. Reprieved, and he had no idea why. "Of course, Sir," he mumbled, watching with disbelieving eyes as the older man all but fled to the sanctuary of his office, unable in that second to decide whether the emotion singing through his veins was relief– or disappointment.

_Thanks for reading. _


	45. Chapter 45

_Hello again! This chapter is terribly angsty, and not very flattering to Tosh I'm afraid – but then she is no more perfect than the rest of the crew. Thank you for clicking. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Owen thumped into the seat across from Jack's desk. "Thought I'd come check for splinters," he commented. "It'd be shards of coffee mug, except that I can't help noticing," and here Owen paused to prod at his temples in an effort to stave off the developing caffeine-withdrawal headache, "Teaboy didn't stop for a coffee round before scarpering off to his Archives."

Jack looked up from the personnel files he'd spent the last half-hour trawling through, searching with a marked lack of success for a record of Suzie's next of kin. He couldn't help welcoming the interruption, even if it did consist of Owen in a bad mood.

"No splinters," Jack replied, presenting his hand for inspection, keeping his face placid beneath Owen's suspicious gaze. The medic was obviously spoiling for a fight, but for once Jack couldn't be bothered. He doubted it'd really make him feel any better, and Owen looked every bit as wretched as he felt himself.

"I'm using the keyboard, see?" Jack continued. "No splinters from a keyboard."

"You're learning," Owen approved, letting Jack's hand fall back to the desk. No stress-relieving spat, then. Not that he was justified in having a go at Jack this time, with a dozen smashed test tubes in the med bay. Toshiko had gone down to the Archives after her favorite toy, and the Gryllidae helmet, too. Owen couldn't remember when she'd been less subtle.

It didn't help in the least to know that, each in their own screwed up way, they'd driven the pair of them back together.

Owen sighed. "This place will be a lot nicer to work in when Gwen arrives."

Jack met his medic's eyes, blinking against the bitterness tainting the air between them. "I'm not sure of the wisdom of getting us a new toy, Owen," he said wryly. Truly, how he could he justify tearing Gwen from a perfectly rewarding life into _this_? They'd manage, the three of them, and if things got desperate Ianto could get his head out of the Archives and his butt into the field. The Archives had been neglected for decades, anyway.

Jack sank his head into his hands and groaned at the unrelenting track of his thoughts. Apparently every synapse had forged its own rebellious path to Ianto.

"Jack?" Owen's voice held traces of alarm.

"No new toys," Jack repeated, into his hands.

His face rose slowly, wearing an expression Owen was only used to seeing in the mirror.

"Unless you promise not to break them," Jack added, after a pause, during which his usual smartarse visage worked its was back onto his face. "Or to let me."

"Like I could stop you," Owen retorted. "And do I really need to remind you that _She_ was broken before I got anywhere near her?"

"No reminder necessary," Jack agreed. His hand roamed restlessly over the surface of his desk, finding only the mouse to play with. His erratic motions threw him out of Suzie's file and into another, where the cursor chose to settle tauntingly on 'Girlfriend – deceased.' Jack sighed, deciding that he really had to get a better handle on his subconscious. 'Girlfriend' the screen read. Nothing more. Somehow he'd managed to delete the woman's name, which might possibly be that twisted subconscious scoring points. "And so was he, I suppose."

The man sitting across from him wasn't much better. Jack couldn't help wondering how 'Nothing left to lose' had managed to work its way to the top of his list of recruitment criteria. Not that he regretted a single hire – not even Suzie, not even after what had happened – but perhaps they'd have more success with someone who started in one piece. Gwen had something to retreat to after work, something solid, safe. Something – some_one_ - to ground her. Jack vowed to himself not to do anything to tear that comfort away, whatever the temptation.

Jack nodded at Owen, his mind made up – again. "She'll start Monday."

-XXX-

Gwen found herself surreptitiously checking her hemline, her hair, even her shoes, as she made her way through the station. Her back twitched beneath the eyes boring into it, and her usual morning Hellos were returned with neither warmth nor eye contact.

Telling herself quite firmly that she was imagining it worked quite well until the group around the coffee machine fell silent at her approach, one or two offering sheepish smiles as they scattered. Gwen took her hastily made coffee and positioned herself behind the desk she usually used, shoving aside the debris of whoever had occupied it during the night shift. Passing eyes brushed over the top of her head, but Gwen resisted the urge to look up. The buzz, whatever it was, would probably be explained when Andy got in. Odd that he hadn't come by to say Good Morning yet.

-XXX-

"Ianto?" Tosh's voice echoed back from between the towering shelves which made up the Archives. "Ianto, are you down here?"

Had anyone else - oh all right, _Owen_ -been with her, he'd no doubt have scoffed "Where else could he be?" but Tosh knew better. Ianto might well be down with Lisa, which would explain the way he'd swept right past Tosh en-route to the Archives, in spite of the fact that she'd been waiting for him, as near to bouncing on her toes as her natural dignity allowed.

Tosh sighed when a further call elicited no response. She didn't want to intrude on Ianto's time with Lisa, but it would look odd if she went back up the Hub empty-handed. Nor could she help herself to the equipment she needed after her tirade about following procedures. There was nothing for it but to wait, and hope not to be dragged away by an alert before she'd gotten the helmet back.

Sighing, Tosh made her way to the workstation Ianto had cobbled together out of the discarded furniture which had made its way down to the Archives. She lowered herself gingerly into a creaking office chair behind the old wooden table which served as a desk, wincing as the rusted castors scratched a new groove into the floor. Ianto's laptop lay before her, atop a thick piece of mottled vinyl to protect it from the rough wooden surface, lid closed against the dusty air. Tosh shook her head, saddened to consider the stresses which had driven her friend down here, sadder still to think that he'd obviously not dared to risk requisitioning new furniture in case it drew attention to the location of his new bolt-hole.

It didn't cross Tosh's mind to consider that Ianto might be hiding from her as well.

-XXX-

The first clue was her inbox. Well, no. The _first_ clue was finding that she'd been allocated desk duty while Andy and his 'temporary' partner covered their usual beat. However hard she racked her brain, Gwen couldn't come up with anything she'd done to deserve a task usually reserved as a subtle punishment when someone had crossed an unwritten line. Only, the _first_ clue hadn't really registered until she found the second.

The hard-won coffee cooled beside her keyboard as Gwen re-read the innocuous-seeming email – a flowery missive from Cardiff Tourism, thanking her for her recent enquiry and offering a variety of suggestions to 'make her visit more enjoyable.' Totally forgettable, except that it had been in her inbox _before she'd connected to the Internet_.

Part of Gwen's mind, the part that wanted to be back in bed cuddled up to Rhys, tried to dismiss the message as a clever piece of spam. It could, she told herself, have been sitting there since the last time she'd logged in at work and she'd ignored it as the rubbish it was. Yes, that was it. Gwen's finger hovered over the delete key, her mind already composing an indignant message to IT for letting such obvious spam through.

Cardiff Tourism though. Gwen's hand dropped back to the desk, fingers drumming. She'd delivered pizzas to Torchwood via the Cardiff Tourism office, which she might be able to dismiss as a coincidence _except that the email was dated today_. The pulse in her temples started drumming in time with her fingers. The message _hadn't_ been sitting in her inbox since the last time she'd logged in here. It _wasn't _spam. Spam wouldn't get through the Heddlu firewalls, even if she'd been foolish enough to use her police sign-on for personal enquiries, which she hadn't.

At home, maybe. Faintly, Gwen remembered Rhys ranting about her being more careful about whom she gave their shared email address to, that he was tired of deleting rubbish, that they ought to invest in a better anti-spam package. Gwen's fingers stopped tapping the desk, and rose to massage away the encroaching headache. No doubt this same message had been sent to her at home as well, probably more than once, to be deleted by an annoyed Rhys before she'd even looked at it. Not that she'd given _that _address to Torchwood either.

That would be Toshiko, no doubt, Gwen thought, pleased with herself for remembering the name. Jack had described Toshiko as a genius, and breaking into the Heddlu database would be a toddle for a genius.

Above Gwen's head, someone cleared their throat. Gwen looked up into the face of a fellow constable, one of the newer ones she hadn't really gotten to know yet, and probably never would, now.

"Sarge wants to see you," Bethan, or Belinda, or maybe it was just Beth, announced, with an air of importance.

Anticipation twisted in her belly as Gwen accepted that the wait was over.

-XXX-

Ianto had just loaded the last item from Tosh's lengthy email onto a trolley when he heard the main door to the Archives squeak open. That door always squeaked, and a helpful squeak it was too. The one time Suzie had noticed and oiled the hinges – either in a burst of consideration or more likely a bid to get at the tech without him noticing - he'd made sure they rusted up again right smart. It was his early warning system, that door. Not that he could hear it from Lisa's room, or even from the adjacent corridor, but Ianto had lost count of the number of times that carefully-cultivated squeak had allowed him time to put himself back together after a visit with Lisa – or Jack – so that he could face the intruder into his domain with butler mask intact.

Ianto took his time making his way back. On the rare occasions other team members bothered coming down here, the shoddy furniture he'd chosen for his little nook usually convinced them to order whatever they wanted via comms or email rather than wait for his return.

He found himself hard put not to grind his teeth together when he spied Tosh at his poor excuse for a desk. Normally she'd be the most welcome of the whole team, but she hadn't even allowed enough time for Owen and Jack to become immersed in their own work before rushing down after him. It was unlike her to be so indiscreet, to the extent that Ianto found himself wondering whether Jack was so off the mark thinking she was obsessed.

"There you are," Tosh exclaimed, springing up from the chair, snagging her stockings in the process if the wince was anything to go by. "You got my request then," she said, stooping to examine the contents of the trolley. "Nearly done, too, and here's me coming down to help you put it together." Tosh sprang up again and smiled winningly into Ianto's face. "I know I'm being impatient, but I'm dying to get started, and I can't help worrying that we haven't seen the end of this latest peak."

Her eyes were shining, Ianto noted, without the surge of pleasure that usually evoked.

"Just the Gryllidae helmet left," he confirmed, and spun on his heel to vanish deeper into the Archives.

Tosh trailed after her friend to the vault which held the high-security items, any concerns about his strange mood vanishing beneath a wave of excitement at the prospect of authorized, uninterrupted time to knock up a new control device. If the Rift would just stay quiet long enough to give her a solid day - even _half _a day would do, just to give her a good start - she'd have the means of lifting Ianto's spirits good and proper.

Tumblers within the vault door rolled in response to Ianto's retina scan, but it wouldn't open until he'd also used one of the many swipe cards hanging from a bulky clip at his belt. Tosh nearly jiggled with impatience.

Ianto merely nodded towards the scanner. "Yours too," he said curtly. "Unless you're happy to wait out here, that is. Or back upstairs."

Tosh blinked at him in confusion, but when no further explanation was forthcoming she rose on tiptoe to oblige. With a click and a swipe they were through, and all petty annoyances were forgotten.

Ianto leaned against the bulky doorframe, watching with a sinking feeling as Tosh ignored all the other wonders in their various translucent storage containers, honing unerringly in on the Gryllidae artifact. He'd have to say something, he thought, with a hint of despair, and hope that would be enough. It would feel like the worst sort of betrayal if he had to confirm Jack's suspicions. Tosh might have the best of intentions for her fixation on the silly thing, but Suzie probably started that way, too.

"It needs another key," Tosh observed, carrying her prize back to the doorway.

"Back at my desk," Ianto said, jerking his head back towards the main Archives, one foot already tapping impatiently. Tosh took the hint, but even so she was barely clear of the door before it boomed shut behind her.

Tosh found herself scurrying to keep up as Ianto stalked away. Her patience with his mood was finally wearing thin. He hadn't even offered to carry the archive unit for her. Tosh knew that Ianto didn't yet share her enthusiasm for the potential of the helmet, but that didn't give him the right to be purposely obstructive. And it would be far better for all their sakes if he was on board when Tosh presented the idea to Lisa.

Tosh's steps faltered. Ianto was too far ahead to notice, let alone steady her. But had she just considered taking her proposal to Lisa without Ianto's consent? Yes, she had. Ianto had sidestepped Tosh's every attempt to broach the subject with him first, and it was, in the end, Lisa's decision to make.

Tosh steadied her breathing and hurried after Ianto. She wasn't at that point yet, and even when - if - she did get there, Lisa would surely discuss it with Ianto before giving Tosh her approval. It was just that Lisa had a right to know her options – all of them.

"I've never had to do that before," Tosh commented, when she'd caught up, gesturing back in the general direction of the vault.

Ianto's shoulders rolled as he shrugged. "I'm not being held responsive for anything that walks out of the Archives anymore," he declared. "Especially not that part."

_Oh_. Pieces snapped almost painfully into place within Tosh's mind. It would appear that Jack had finally given Ianto the lecture they'd half-expected since the rest of them had taken contraband home. That would explain the new security measures, and maybe Ianto's odd mood, too.

Tosh cast her eyes left and right, searching for one of the nooks which she knew from long experience held a CCTV blind spot. Spying one, she reached forward and tapped Ianto's shoulder, gesturing towards the spot with a casual arm and a pleading eyebrow.

"Laser tools down that aisle, right?" she asked, with an air of innocence. "I know I didn't put it on the email, but I'd probably be better off using some of those than my usual kit. Do you mind?"

The look Ianto sent her way wasn't the usual conspiratorial smile, more resignation, possibly even annoyance, but he followed her into the stacks anyway.

-XXX-

"Special Ops, huh? What'd you do to deserve Special Ops?"

Gwen forced herself to take a breath before responding. She'd only make it worse for herself if she got defensive, and a certain amount of hostility was only to be expected, given her apparent promotion over the heads of several more experienced colleagues.

The content of her meeting with her disgruntled Sergeant and Human Resources _should_ have been confidential, but obviously the news had gotten out well before Gwen even made it into work. That would be Sarge, Gwen was sure, with his nose out of joint that she hadn't approached him for advice or a recommendation before putting in her application. Not that she was required to, not that she would have if there'd even been an application _to _lodge. Sarge had his protégés, but Gwen had never been one of them – which probably explained why she and Andy had always pulled the rowdiest pubs on their beat.

She'd had a few congratulations, too, some genuine, some grudging, but those were far outweighed by the suspicious glances and the alarming number of conversations which ceased when Gwen drew into earshot. A distinct lack of rejoicing at her good fortune amongst her colleagues, to put it mildly. Even Andy seemed to be avoiding her. Admittedly, he was out with his new partner already - the speed of which had to be pure spite on Sarge's behalf - but he hadn't returned a single one of her calls or texts either, and he was possibly the only person in the station Gwen felt was owed an explanation of sorts.

The hovering presence cleared his throat. Whispers and dark looks were one thing, but this was the first time anyone had openly voiced what Gwen had to assume was jealousy. She exhaled carefully to ensure it couldn't be interpreted as an aggrieved sigh, and pasted on a pleasant expression. Only then did she risk looking up into the face of Snr Constable Joseph Briggs, a long-term fixture of Cardiff station, whom yesterday she would have classed as a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance.

"Or should I ask_ who_?" Joe continued, his voiced pitched to carry and his brows arched suggestively. Gwen's face burned at the – hell, it wasn't so much an implication so much as an accusation. She yearned to slap the sneer off his face, but she had the sense to realize the barb wouldn't sting so badly except for the kernel of truth it contained. She _had _flirted her way into the good graces of the two men who seemed to be the powers-that-be of Torchwood. Remembering the overwhelming presence of the one, and the smoldering challenge of the other, Gwen couldn't even convince herself that it wouldn't have gone further, especially as she'd truly believed at the time that she was playing for her freedom and her memory, if not her life itself.

Gwen's palm itched to make contact with the taunting face regardless, and she had to remind herself very firmly that it was in her best interests as Torchwood's police liaison to retain a certain amount of goodwill in the police force. Even if she currently didn't give a damn if she ever saw any of them again. Except Andy, of course.

"I didn't _do_ anyone," Gwen answered eventually, in a voice that didn't quite manage pleasant but was at least not hostile. "I do, however, speak Welsh, which was apparently the clincher." That'd been in the email too, under an innocuous heading of 'How to get the most from your visit'.

"Oh." Joe's eyes flickered to hers, then dropped.

"And I didn't make a big deal out of applying because I thought I'd not got much chance. I'm as surprised as the rest of you," Gwen concluded, raising her voice for the benefit of eavesdroppers.

Joe shifted his feet. "Well, best of luck then," he muttered, before making an escape. Gwen watched him go, and watched several heads turn – away, feeling unexpectedly well disposed towards Joe. At least he'd been upfront, however unpleasant.

He had also opened something of a floodgate. "They wanted a Welsh speaker," Gwen told the next enquirer. And the next, and surprisingly it satisfied all of them. Gwen made a mental note to thank Toshiko for the suggestion. At least, she assumed it was Toshiko, having remembered the Asian woman stating offhandedly that cover-ups were her job. Not that she had any idea how Toshiko could have known that Gwen spoke Welsh. Plenty of locals didn't. Gwen herself had only picked it up in her childhood as a byproduct of being cared for by an elderly aunt while her parents were at work.

It was just another example of how intrusive Torchwood was, Gwen concluded, and underlined the importance – as if she needed a reminder – of how vital it would be to keep on the good side of the people who would become her new co-workers.

Especially given how miserably she seemed to have failed with this lot, Gwen thought sadly as she made her way into the changing room to empty her locker. No so much as an offer of farewell drinks. And she still hadn't seen Andy.

-XXX-

Ianto spun around the instant they were within the CCTV blind spot. "For God's sake, Tosh, dial it back a notch," he exclaimed.

Tosh's expression of burgeoning sympathy morphed into astonishment. "Dial _what_?" she demanded, clearly bewildered. "What am I supposed to have done?"

Ianto ran a distracted hand through his hair. "You did enough to have Jack asking me whether that bloody helmet is turning you into another Suzie, that's what," he answered sharply.

Tosh's eyes widened as she processed it. Ianto fought against a wave of guilt. He had to warn her, he reminded himself, before she did something to raise Jack's suspicions further, and maybe he was being harsh but if Tosh hadn't succumbed to her fantasies over that stupid helmet then he wouldn't have been forced to examine his willingness to throw himself in Jack's way. Ianto closed his eyes against the treacherous path of his own thoughts. He wasn't even making sense to himself anymore.

Tosh was quite grateful for the sturdy shelves to lean against. Of course it was shocking that Jack would suspect her of _that_ – but even she had to admit it was understandable. An overreaction from _not_ reacting to Suzie's behavior. Still, what_ really_ weakened her knees was simple relief. It wasn't the helmet itself Ianto was stewing over, but concern for how Tosh was reacting to it. Spurred on by Jack. Easily fixed. She hoped.

Ianto's eyes flickered open in response to a tentative touch on his arm. "I think it'll be OK, though," he said, relieved that he at least seemed to have made an impression. "I distracted him."

"Distracted?" Tosh repeated, barely managing to get her jaw closed. Given the way Ianto's face seemed to age at least a decade with that one sentence, it was difficult to remember why it had seemed such a good idea to encourage him to return his time-honored method of distracting Jack. "You didn't…did you?"

"Oh for Christ's sake, not like _that_," Ianto snapped. His expression of outrage struck Tosh as slightly funny, especially given the eye-roll. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped, even if it was mostly a release of tension.

"I do have an upper brain to think with," Ianto muttered, the resentful tone ruined by a quirking lip. "Not that anyone could tell from the way you and Lisa carry on."

Tosh would have been suitably chastened, would have followed up with another giggle occasioned by the reference to her and Lisa's obviously-not-so-subtle-as-they'd-thought inferences - except that she knew Ianto well enough to catch the haunted expression which skittered across his face before he nailed the amused outrage into place. It'd been damned near exactly 'like that'.

"Well, how then?" Tosh asked tentatively, when Ianto appeared in no hurry to break the silence.

"I told him about the GPS echo I smuggled home," Ianto admitted, his voice so neutral that it conversely told Tosh exactly how deeply ran the stress beneath it. "And of course then I had to explain what I used it for. That threw him off, all right. It's not _you_ he's suspicious of, anymore. And…Oh, Goddamn and bloody hell."

Because just then, in case proof was needed – or, as Tosh couldn't help speculating, as though Jack had been watching on CCTV and noticed them vanish into a blind spot - Ianto's phone shrilled. He glanced at the display, but didn't bother telling Tosh who it was - at least, not with words. His face said it all.

Tosh stayed where she was as Ianto stepped back into the aisle, reattaching his earpiece as he went.

"Yes, Sir, of course," Ianto's said briskly, his voice echoing around where Tosh still leaned against the archive shelves. "Heddlu HR has already cleared the transfer." Efficient as always, Tosh thought vaguely, as her mind whirled. Whatever else was or wasn't happening between the two men, Ianto's professionalism could always be relied on, if not Jack's.

"Monday won't be a problem at all," Ianto was saying, when Tosh focused again. "I'll get onto it shortly, once Toshiko has…."

Ianto broke off. Tosh shuffled closer, disturbed to see Ianto's face twist into a frown as he listened. "She's just signed the Gryllidae artifact out of the secure Archives, Sir," he reported stiffly. "There are a few more items on her list to be collected before I can…Oh yes, of course, Sir."

Ianto snapped his phone closed with a thoughtful air, then joined Tosh back within the stacks.

"He told me to let you collect the rest of your gear yourself," Ianto told her, frowning. "I've been ordered to go play courier."

Tosh fought, unsuccessfully, to keep a grin off her face. If Jack had just authorized her to remain down here without Ianto, surely any misgivings he'd had were either in Ianto's imagination or at an end already.

Ianto failed to return the smile. "Oh Tosh," he said, shaking his head. "Haven't you ever heard of giving someone enough rope to hang themselves with?"

Before Tosh could quite react, her face was pressed into a warm shoulder and she was inhaling the scent of wool, and dust – and safety. She could practically feel her blood pressure drop. Lisa was so lucky – and Jack was an idiot. Not that Ianto was much better, not where Jack was concerned. What had Jack _done,_ though? Tosh wondered. She was sure she hadn't imagined the gradual thawing of the ice between the two men, and yet Ianto seemed on the verge of breaking again. Jack must have been terribly crass to scare Ianto off like this. Typical Jack, really, Tosh thought. Typical _thick_ Jack. Give him an opening and he could be guaranteed to insert a sledgehammer. If he'd used just the tiniest bit of tact, or God forbid, a grain of romance, things might have been so much better for both of them. For all of them.

"Be careful, Cariad," Ianto murmured, drawing back, fixing anxious eyes on her face. "Be so careful."

Tosh withdrew reluctantly. "I will," she promised. "But really, Ianto, I'm sure it isn't as bad as you think."

Ianto gave a disbelieving huff. Tosh slapped his arm, lightly, in reproof. "No, just listen," she ordered. "Of course Jack's on edge after what happened with Suzie. I mean, we all are." It was true, Tosh thought, and it might even explain why she'd gone off the rails with Owen. "But if he truly thought I was going _her_ way, then _that_," and Tosh jerked her head towards the trolley waiting in the aisle, "would still be locked away, if not in atoms already."

Ianto was looking thoughtful. Encourage, Tosh nudged him with an elbow. "C'mon, seriously, when have you ever known Jack to lay clever traps? He's too direct for that."

Ianto shook his head, stubbornly. Tosh sighed. "Look, you'd better go. We'll finish this later, yeah?"

Ianto nodded. "At home, maybe?" he suggested hesitantly. "We have to be careful about meeting up here, Tosh. We're not supposed to be giving him reason to question you after I've gone."

Tosh bit her lip. The words were so far from her own headspace that she could hardly stop herself from correcting him. _You won't have to go once I get the helmet working _she thought, literally biting back the words. But it was the wrong time to reintroduce her solution, so soon after he'd voiced Jack's suspicions, even if Ianto wasn't about to rush off on Jack's latest errand.

Besides, Tosh was becoming progressively more enthused with the concept of approaching Lisa first. She was positive that Lisa would at least agree to let Tosh try the helmet on her – after thorough testing of course - and then she could leave it to Lisa to speak to Ianto. Ianto wouldn't deny Lisa.

"But he must have noticed something," Ianto persisted, still off on the wrong track. "Why ask _me_ if he was worried about you? Why not Owen?"

"Owen?" Tosh repeated, her face a study in disbelief. This at least was something easily shot down. "Even Jack wouldn't expect an objective opinion from _him _after our slanging match in the boardroom."

Ianto almost laughed. "I see your point," he agreed. "Right, well, um, just be careful down here, yeah?"

Tosh followed Ianto back out into the aisles, secure in the knowledge that Ianto's broad frame would shield her from the cameras. "Jack's welcome to watch me for the rest of the afternoon if he likes," she declared, tossing her head. "All he'll see is my little trolley weaving amongst the aisles. I'm sure he'll tire of that soon enough."

_Especially when he could be watching you instead_, Tosh thought, again having to struggle against voicing it.

After a quick stop at Ianto's desk to unlock the helmet from its opaque prison, the pair exchanged a silent acknowledgement before making their way in opposite directions. As they both knew only too well, everything Tosh had asked for was already on the trolley, even though she'd be careful to collect an armful of tools to account for the extra time before she returned to the main Hub.

Each of them would later be comforted by the knowledge that Tosh hadn't hesitated to give up the chance of working on the helmet in preference to snatching a visit with Lisa, considering it proof that she was as free of obsession as they both hoped.

Ianto had told Jack that if Tosh obsessed, it would be over a person, not a piece of tech. It was just an excuse, a way to throw Jack off. He hadn't realised that it was nothing less than the truth.

But someone knew. Someone welcomed Tosh's obsession with open arms. Metaphorically open, given that they couldn't physically move. Yet.

As Tosh hurriedly, and still somewhat guiltily, related the potential of the project she'd been granted permission to work on, chocolate eyes glowed with approval.

_Already she plans to give me more metal. She gets closer every day. I have chosen well. She will be an honor to serve. _

_Designation Cybercontroller._

* * *

_I didn't go quite as far as I'd intended with this chapter, but I have a very busy few weeks/months coming up so it was either a shortish chapter or a hiatus. Hope this is OK._


	46. Chapter 46

_My deepest thanks to the people who have reviewed this fic recently, in spite of a year's hiatus. I never intended to leave it so long, but without your kind words of encouragement it might have been longer still. I will try my best to live up to your expectations from now on._

_Special thanks to Darkened Shadows for the pompom waving._

_Onwards, then. Fairly long chapter in the interests of re-establishing where I left everyone. _

_...and thank you for clicking_

* * *

The morgue drawer rattled open, echoing through the deserted Hub. Ianto peered inside, located the identifying tag, compared it to the register affixed to his clipboard, then reached further, twitching the wrapping aside with a gloved hand to ensure the contents matched the tag. Satisfied, his pen scratched another line across his clipboard and the drawer slammed shut again.

For once, he didn't give a damn how much noise he made. Relished it, even. Jack and Owen were out chasing Weevils back into the sewers, had been since Ianto arrived back from delivering Gwen Cooper's phone, and the noise would hardly disturb Lisa, holed up down there conspiring with Tosh.

Ianto wrenched the next drawer open, releasing a puff of icy air into an already cold environment. Inside, a Rift refugee from 2032 slumbered like a high-tech Snow White, waiting not for Prince Charming, but for the calendar to click over to the day she disappeared so she could pick up the threads of her life. Lucky girl. Right at this moment, Ianto could think of nothing better than to sleep for a decade or two. It wasn't as though anyone would miss him.

Maybe when he woke up he'd be able to understand how Tosh could have gone behind his back and convinced Lisa to abandon all their plans and instead throw her faith into an artifact none of them really understood. Or how Lisa could let herself be so thoroughly swayed, in spite of all his opposition, all his fears, especially when not so long ago she'd hardly been able to bear having Tosh in the same room with her.

Ianto sighed and stretched as the drawer rumbled back into its slot. Maybe he ought to just go home? He'd hardly be welcome on the mattress in the cellar tonight and for all he knew Tosh was already curled up on it. He'd stormed off, after all. The girls probably expected that he'd left already.

Except that he was deliberately making enough noise to ensure they knew he was up here, even if the circuitry invading Lisa's brain hadn't given her exceptional hearing. As the echoes washed through the Hub, drawing sleepy grumbles from Myfanwy, Ianto wryly concluded that it would probably qualify as a tantrum except that he was doing it productively.

The hell with it. Myfanwy should be out hunting already, lazy sod that she was, and it wasn't as though he could wake the dead. Not unless he accidently turned off the cryo-units, at least.

-XXX-

Rhys wanted to celebrate her 'promotion', bless him. Gwen's spirits rose. Damn Heddlu, and to hell with Andy, too, if he was so immersed in whatever snit he'd imagined that he couldn't be bothered to even return a text.

She didn't need Heddlu anyway. She was Torchwood now. Gwen picked up her shiny new phone and examined it intently, noting the tiny enhancements which wouldn't be seen on a retail floor for decades yet, if ever. Her mind drifted back to another unsettling portion of a terribly confusing day, as she relived having the phone delivered to her that afternoon in what she considered a totally unnecessary bit of cloak and dagger.

Gwen had hardly noticed the suited figure hovering as she left the station, too busy stinging from the lack of any sort of sendoff hastily excused by _it all happened so fast, no time to organize any sort of do, but all the best, Gwennie, and you won't miss us, will you, when you're brushing shoulders with the toffs?_

Just as that thought had passed through her mind, one of those very toffs fell into step beside her. Gwen looked up, startled from her thoughts. Suit, she remembered vaguely, as more memories from that drugged period resurfaced. _Looks good in a suit._ He hadn't stuck so strongly in her memory as the others, lurking in the background as he did, but the coffee on her second visit was less forgettable, and he'd had an empty tray tucked under his arm just as a package was now. Yes, this was another of her new co-workers.

"Ianto?" Gwen hazarded, heart thumping.

He'd favored her with a nod and a distant smile, and pressed the package into her hands. "Your phone," he explained. "Keep it with you. When it rings, answer."

Gwen had looked up, eager to unleash the questions burning a path from her mind to her tongue, but the suited figure had already disappeared. Neat. Showy, but neat. Maybe she could learn how to do that.

From the bathroom the shower curtain rattled on its rings, drawing Gwen back into the moment with a jerk. The erratic movement dragged her thumb across the phone, waking the screen, luring her to investigate the contents as carefully as she'd already examined the shell. The device was already loaded with names and numbers, some of which stirred memories from the interval still sluggish from the effects of the amnesia drug. Gwen smiled to see a text from _Jack _already within her inbox. 'See you on Monday, if not before,' it said, with not only a smiley face, but a _winking_ smiley face.

Rhys' voice broke into her reverie, asking whether she was ready _yet_. Gwen dropped the phone onto her dressing table with a guilty start and seized her hairbrush instead. Tonight was supposed to be for Rhys, Rhys and her, and here she was mooning over a damned phone. Gwen nodded at herself in the mirror as she gave herself a blast of Rhys' favorite perfume. No more distractions. "Be right there, sweetheart," she called.

It was tempting to just leave the damned phone behind so it couldn't distract her again – after all, the text said Monday, didn't it? – but with Ianto's admonition still fresh in her mind she stuffed it into her pocket instead. Rhys smiled brightly as she emerged into the living room, but Gwen paused halfway to the door, one hand absently tracing the outlines of the phone. It was already fully charged, but there'd been a spare battery in the charger, which seemed excessive enough to be a warning. No-one bothered with spare batteries any more. Gwen wondered what would happen the first time she missed a call because her phone was flat and decided she didn't want to find out. Rhys rattled his keys meaningfully, but still she took the time to plug the charger into a wall socket before hurrying to join her boyfriend for what might well be their last evening of normality.

-XXX-

Ianto pushed another drawer closed with a satisfying thump. He was nearly finished with the second row. Soon he'd have to think about finding a ladder. The next drawer seemed to be stuck. Ianto glanced curiously at the register, winced at the 'not to be opened' notation, and resolved to begin checking _before_ he tried the handles. Good thing it _had_ stuck. Rusted shut, maybe even time-locked, probably both. Two more drawers, contents as labeled, and Ianto frowned heavily. He'd found two mislabeled bodies, neither handily occupying the space where the other ought to be. Logically there had to be another one at least, and he could swap them back around and re-label his tantrum as a job well done.

"Ianto?"

All the tension bled out of his muscles through physical labor rushed right back as Tosh's voice called, soft and slightly shaky. Somewhat childishly, Ianto tugged at another drawer instead of answering. The glow of satisfaction as he realised that he'd found another error, as expected, morphed into a heavy frown as he realised that this wasn't his missing body but another still, which hinted at something more sinister than a one-time error. He slammed the drawer shut in annoyance, for an instant honestly forgetting Tosh's hovering presence. What had begun as a mind-numbing if bizarre checklist was turning into something closer to a monumental stuff-up, and no prizes for guessing who'd be left to sort it out.

The hesitant footsteps stopped altogether at the entrance to the morgue. "Lisa's sleeping," Tosh said quietly.

Ianto nodded, eyes focused stubbornly on his clipboard. Tosh sighed and moved closer. "I didn't do it with the sole intention of upsetting you, you know," she said. Her voice was stronger now, and Ianto remembered her flashing fire in the boardroom as she finally stood up to Owen. Toshiko wouldn't be put off by coldness, not today. Ianto's shoulders sagged as he turned to face her.

"I _did_ speak to you first," Tosh persisted, voice and face intent. "You wouldn't hear me out."

"Which should have been enough for you to work out how I felt about it," Ianto countered, keeping the bitterness out of his tone with effort.

Tosh scanned the area they were in. The morgue had CCTV, of course, but it was visual only, an anomaly which had puzzled Tosh until she'd found first Owen and then herself muttering regrets to the drawer in which Suzie lay. After that she shuddered every time she considered how many of these drawers contained people Jack had known, worked with, perhaps even loved. He'd been in Torchwood for longer than the rest of them, after all. He must have known at least one past team – probably several, given his inexplicable recovery from the bullet Suzie had pumped into him – and many if not all of them lay behind one of these impersonal labels. Tosh couldn't help the shudder as she wondered which one would hold _her_ when the time came, and whether anyone would remember the woman behind the brass number. Jack would be there, at least, and the thought was at once comforting and horrible beyond belief.

Tosh shook herself. No microphones in deference to unguarded reminiscing meant they could speak openly as long as neither of them looked directly at the camera. Nor was there any reason why they couldn't speak for as long as they wanted without raising suspicions, given that Tosh had spent most of the afternoon alone in Ianto's archives. A lengthy update was only to be expected.

"Lisa deserves to know her options," Tosh said firmly. "_All _of them, Ianto, not just what you've vetted and approved first."

Ianto closed his eyes briefly. More evidence, if he'd needed it, of how lost Tosh was getting in that blasted helmet. She hadn't even _considered…._ Ianto tamped down on the brewing rage and forced himself to inhale levelly before opening his eyes, meeting Tosh's stubborn gaze with a carefully neutral one of his own. "Even the ones that put _more_ metal on her, instead of less?" he asked.

He'd spoken quietly, calmly. The words shouldn't have echoed at all, let alone bounce back from the walls and hit Tosh with all the impact of a slap to the face. Tosh's hand flew to her own mouth, muffling a gasp. This was the nearest either of them had ever come to voicing the particular, insidious fear they shared.

_Lisa likes the metal._ _Lisa likes __**her**__ metal._

Ianto's instant rejection of the helmet made sense now, even the way he'd simply blanked Tosh out instead of explaining his resistance. Tosh felt a shamed heat rise as she recalled, not an hour ago, holding Lisa's hand while the trapped woman unburdened herself of harbored resentment, justified or not, against the man who had put her in the cellar all these months ago. The man who professed to love her but was now refusing to explore a chance of having Lisa out in the daylight weeks if not months earlier than expected. At least, Tosh reassured herself, at least she'd repeatedly reassured Lisa that Ianto only wanted the best for her, even if neither of them agreed with him on what the best actually was…. But surely the _best_ option couldn't possibly involve Lisa staying in the converter a second longer than was absolutely necessary. The converter.

"Not_ more_ metal," Tosh said firmly. "Less. Damn it, Ianto, it'll get her _out_ of the converter."

Ianto rubbed both hands along his face. "If it works," he conceded. "If it _is _a life support device, and _if_ you can fix it, and _if_ it works. So many ifs, Tosh." He shook his head. "But let's not even start off on how I feel about holding out false hope."

Tosh blinked at him. "But it isn't false, Ianto," she pleaded. "I saw what that helmet did today in the autopsy bay. The way it….Oh look I'm not going into it now, but it's amazing, I _saw_ it stimulate brain function without even causing a wound…" She was tripping over her own enthusiasm, just as she had today before Owen had all but dragged her off the test subject. But if the helmet could do that with the spark of life _absent_…..

Tosh shook her head, forcibly damping down her own excitement. But she knew what she'd seen. "All it needs is a new controller," she said firmly. "I can do that. I know I can; especially now I have Jack's approval to work on it openly. I can get Lisa out of the converter, Ianto."

Tosh's face shone with the zeal of the fanatic. Ianto shuddered inside. He'd never actually seen Suzie using the glove, but he was terribly afraid that he now knew exactly how she'd looked.

He couldn't let that happen to Tosh. Whatever the potential cost to Lisa.

Ianto squared his shoulders. "Maybe you can," he admitted. "But Tanizaki can too, and there's no maybe about it. He's _done_ it, Tosh. He's healed people with that prototype converter of his and gotten them out with no problems at all. Damn it, you hacked into his tests yourself."

Tosh bit her lip at the implication. "I'll test the helmet before it gets anywhere near Lisa," she said defensively.

"On what?" Ianto demanded, voice rising in frustration. "Or should I ask on whom?"

Tosh swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. "Someone who…someone who'd die without it, how about that? We see people we can't save every day, Ianto. The helmet would give them a last chance at life. How can that be a bad thing?"

Ianto gaped at her, his face freezing in disbelief for an instant, before setting into lines of grim determination. He reached back without even looking and wrenched open a drawer. A drawer Tosh knew, and for a second she hated her friend for using it – her – to make his point. At least he hadn't opened the body bag yet. Just at this second, Tosh wouldn't have been surprised to see Suzie to open her eyes just long enough for an accusing stare.

"I've no doubt that's exactly what_ she_ thought," Ianto said, his voice strangely quiet after all of the yelling. "And yet I don't remember _her_ test subjects being terribly pleased about their second shot at life, do you?"

Tosh shook her head, not even realizing that she was backing away until her foot hit the doorframe. She well remembered the terror of Suzie's test subjects, remembered how angry she'd been on their behalf. "Don't, Ianto," Tosh faltered. "Stop. Please stop."

Ianto pulled the drawer shut, far more gently than he'd wrenched it open. The tears welling in Tosh's eyes rebuked him far more effectively than any amount of shouting. He sagged against the wall of drawers, telling himself he wouldn't have done it, not really, that however far he'd fallen it would never be low enough to use the dead face of a lost colleague to prove a point, however important.

"You can hate me if you want," he said dully. "But I won't have you turning into another Suzie, not even for Lisa."

His only answer was the clatter of sensible heels as Tosh fled.

Ianto stared after his friend in something as close to shock as he'd been since he'd first seen Lisa trapped in the converter. Nothing Torchwood had shown him since sat quite so wrongly in his mind as the idea of Tosh running away from him. Running from him, he wondered, or running from the possibility he'd made her face?

Lisa sending him away. Tosh fleeing his presence. Ianto wasn't exactly sure when his legs gave way, but he found himself sliding down the wall of drawers, ending up sitting on the cold floor, drooping against the silent ranks of Torchwood's failures. In the space of a few hours he'd managed to alienate the two people he cared for most in the world. It was to keep them safe, he reminded himself hastily, and that was worth any personal cost, surely. Except now that the cog alarm was fading as the wheel spun closed behind Tosh, a tiny voice in the depths of Ianto's mind persisted in wondering whether he hadn't been equally motivated by jealousy that Lisa had sided with Tosh against him.

Eventually the chill from the floor seeped through his suit and into his bones. Ianto sighed and heaved himself to his feet. He didn't want to go home to a flat filled with preparations for the new life that might never come. He yearned to go down to Lisa, but Tosh said she'd left her sleeping, so he'd achieve nothing except to disturb whatever rest she'd managed to find. If he chased after Tosh while she was still angry, they'd either fight some more or he'd end up groveling apologies and undoing any good his tirade might have done. The morgue had no answers, but it might still offer a distraction. Ianto dusted off his suit and went in search of a ladder.

-XXX-

"What are you doing, Ianto?"

Just my luck, Jack thought, though he couldn't say whether good luck or bad - or just Fate mocking him for the umpteenth time. Ironic, at least, that having steeled himself to the reality of an empty Hub, he'd followed some potentially suspicious sounds – and found Ianto. In the morgue. On a ladder. With a clipboard. In pinstripes.

How many times had this scenario played out in the past? Returning to find Ianto embroiled in some task or the other, rising to the challenge of breaking that intense concentration and diverting it to a much more personally rewarding pastime? Jack swallowed heavily, shoving his hands deep in his pockets so they couldn't obey the instincts within, screaming at him to grab, to take, to claim. To reclaim.

Ianto looked down from the top of the ladder, cursing the fit of pique or pride or whatever it was that had kept him here, hoping every second for Tosh to return so they could sort out the mess between them but still too stiff-necked himself to go after her as he should.

He'd been sure his hopes were answered when the cog sounded, and was half-way down the ladder when a far heavier tread sounded on the gratings in the main Hub. He scrambled back up to where his legs weren't visible on the rungs and froze in place, clinging to the ladder along with the hope that Jack had merely forgotten something and would leave again. A hope which faded around the time his limbs started cramping, and died when Jack's footsteps rang on the paving of the morgue.

At least he'd had enough forewarning that he hadn't fallen off the ladder when Jack spoke. Score one for dignity.

"You shouldn't be here," Jack continued. "I'm sure I yelled at you to go home when we passed you on our way out."

They'd crossed paths in the garage just as Ianto was returning from delivering Gwen's phone. Jack had leaned out of the SUV window to tell Ianto not to bother waiting until they got back, with Owen generously conceding that they could always call him in if they need a cell or a cold slot. Ianto had decided to prepare both before going down to meet with Lisa and Tosh regardless, hoping to save himself a trip back up. Finding a mystery corpse in a supposedly vacant slot was exactly what had sparked off the puzzle he was embroiled in now.

Jack tapped an impatient foot, the sound echoing across the enclosed space. "Ianto, I asked what you're still doing here, and I expect an answer."

Ianto cleared his throat. Jack's tone held reproof rather than accusation, enquiry instead of innuendo, and together they went a long way towards restoring his equilibrium.

"You might call it a stock-take, Sir," Ianto answered briskly, peering into a morgue drawer and making a note on his clipboard before closing it again. He didn't want to look at Jack, too afraid he'd see the resentment in Ianto's eyes, resentment he didn't deserve.

But, damn him. What was he doing here? Jack _always_ hit the bars with Owen after they'd chased Weevils together, working off the adrenaline, as they'd both explained far too often and with one too many leers. He shouldn't have been back for hours yet, if at all.

Yet here Jack was, gazing up at Ianto as though the ladder were a Christmas tree and Ianto himself a present he'd forgotten to unwrap. And here was Ianto, hating himself for the answering glow in his belly, for the treacherous whisper in his mind telling him that Lisa wouldn't care, especially not now. That if Tosh and Lisa went ahead with their ridiculous scheme it would be even more vital to keep Jack distracted – and he bet neither of them had given that a thought, had they? Then again, Lisa had given her permission long ago, her blessing even. Scratch that itch, Ianto love, as long isn't anyone you give a damn about. As long as it's Jack. As though Jack didn't have any feelings either.

Tosh seemed to think it was all some tragic love triangle, though she'd not been crass enough to actually come out and say so, for which Ianto remained grateful. A gratitude now souring in his gut as he remembered the accusations he'd hurled at her such a short time ago.

"Of the morgue?" Jack asked in bemusement. Ianto seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to respond, but that might just be an effect of the chaos in Jack's own mind as it fought a battle with the demands of his body, which was currently staging a rebellion against the recent and inexplicable bout of celibacy. The view wasn't helping, especially not with the way that clever tailoring tightened in all the right places as Ianto twisted around to look down at him, offering a crooked smile which nearly tipped the scales in favor of rebellion.

"I'd say head count, but that's liable to be inaccurate," Ianto noted gravely.

Jack smiled slowly, feeling somewhat relieved as the lightness dulled the fire in gut. Things might have ended tolerably in the boardroom today, but if he'd tried anything now it'd only ruin whatever progress they'd made. He'd be asking for another rejection. Jack's hands curled into fists inside his pockets as he forcibly dispelled the remaining tension.

"After the meeting today Owen parceled out Suzie's duties," Ianto explained. "I got these." He gestured over the top of the ladder at the ranks of drawers. "The Flesh Archives, Owen called it."

"Sounds like him," Jack agreed with bemusement. "And yet totally _un_like."

Ianto shrugged and turned back to his task, pulling at whichever draw he could reach without having to descend the ladder. "You'd already effectively allocated Tosh artifact repair," he offered, metal grating as he slid the drawer back into its slot. "I suppose Owen was just following through."

"Highly conscientious of him," Jack noted, not without suspicion. Owen _was_ highly conscientious in his own field, but administrative initiative wasn't his forte. Nor was this enthusiasm to take on extra responsibility. "And what exactly did he keep for himself?"

Ianto peered down at Jack again. "The burden of command," he responded dryly.

Jack laughed in spite of himself. Owen did have seniority, he supposed, and had actually acted within protocol to assume Suzie's command status, at least until Jack decreed otherwise. Jack himself hadn't really given the matter any thought. Owen was admittedly the natural choice, even if only because he'd never take orders from either of the others. The role needed someone who knew how to handle people, though, and Owen's people-management skills could stand some polish, to put it lightly.

Jack frowned. The others wouldn't do, though. Tosh shied away from leadership and was too easily upset by opposition, though she'd shown some improvement on that today. Ianto lacked the authority and the inclination, if not the ability. Gwen had already shown the type of aggressive initiative Torchwood needed, and her people skills were hardly in doubt given how skillfully she'd coaxed Jack and Owen both into not only leaving her memories intact but accepting her into the fold. She might do, given time, but she hadn't even started. Owen wouldn't listen to her either, at least not yet.

Jack shook his head to dispel the unproductive train of thought and waved an expansive arm at the ranks of drawers. "I'm not saying it's a bad idea for you to take over here," he agreed, "But why now? What's the urgency?" Damned if part of him wasn't still hanging onto old habits, hoping against all likelihood that this was one of those time-wasting ploys which had served so well in the past. That any second now there'd be one of _those_ glances smouldering from beneath demurely lowered lids.

Ianto looked down, saw something apart from professional interest looking back at him, and swallowed heavily. Jack caught the movement easily – he was certainly watching closely enough - and cursed his own over-active imagination. He shoved his fists back into his pockets, closing his hands around his own flesh instead of the smoother, paler skin they remembered so vividly. Damn it, this was ridiculous. There was plenty of Welsh skin out there in the bars; he ought to go help himself to that instead of suffering this 'all you can't eat' buffet.

And then of course Ianto had to go and say something work-related, and important at that.

"I _was _only planning a cursory check," Ianto explained, turning to yank another drawer open, taking refuge in his work. Puffs of condensation appeared, shrouding his face, cooling the heat which burnt beneath his skin. "But it's already apparent that the records are inaccurate."

Jack frowned up at the expanse of white shirt, keeping his eyes firmly above waist height. "They're old records," he chided gently. "You have to expect the occasional error."

"If the error _was_ in the old records, certainly," Ianto countered, in a crisp voice which ought to cool Jack's ardor but only served to add a few degrees. "But when you asked me to prepare a place for Suzie, the drawer allocated to her was already full," Ianto continued, forgetting his more immediate concerns as he lost himself in the working out of the puzzle which had been his savior this evening. "I didn't think much of it until it happened again when I tried to find a temporary drawer in case you brought back a Weevil. But now," Ianto waved a hand at the rows of drawers. "It appears to be more than a one-off mistake. Slots which should be vacant aren't, others don't match the records for the occupant…." He shook his head. "It's looking to be a right mess, Sir."

Jack blinked up at him, smiling at the show of enthusiasm.

Ianto paused for a breath, realized he'd been ranting, and looked down with a crooked smile. "Hence the….um…head check, as it were. Though as I said, that might be a misleading term. Can't assume a head per drawer at Torchwood, can we?"

"How I've missed the witty repartee," Jack responded, his face crinkling into a grin. He _had_ missed it. Perhaps even more than he'd missed the other, and as he'd reminded himself already, he could get that anywhere. Was it worth risking this for the brief physical pleasure? Ianto was relaxing now, a combination of enthusiasm probably helped along by the fact that he was out of reach. Things could only improve, given time and patience.

Ianto had to come down the ladder sometime, after all.

Jack gave himself a light mental slap. Hadn't he just accepted that it would be much better if they could get past their history and be friends? Much better. Better than nothing. _And I can still look_, Jack thought appreciatively, and a fine view it was from here, too. At which point he realized the slap hadn't worked and took himself across the other side of the morgue.

"Yes, well, I'd like to avoid processing a request for a male Caucasian only to find it thaws into a bi-gender Calaxian," Ianto responded briskly. Jack had moved away. Ianto told himself he'd been overreacting. Jack had probably only been waiting at the foot of the ladder in case he needed to steady it.

Jack laughed, before realizing Ianto was serious. "Is it that bad?" he asked, brow wrinkling. "I mean, I know Owen isn't one for paperwork, but I'd have sworn he'd take care labeling a corpse."

Ianto opened another drawer. "This one's wrong, too," he murmured, not without a hint of satisfaction, having finally located the errant body which had sparked off the search. "But yes, Sir, it _is_ that bad. I've checked thirty-two so far and only nineteen were as they should be. And I haven't found all the correct inhabitants for the other thirteen, so there's still more to find."

He looked down at Jack, chewing on his lower lip. "I doubt Owen is to blame, though, Sir. Much as he might tend towards creative record-keeping, he's not careless in his work, and some of the inaccuracies are before his time, anyway. I think….I think someone's been…"

Jack swore as he put it together. "Suzie," he concluded. "Testing the glove, right?"

Ianto didn't answer. His pen scratched on his clipboard, echoing in the silence.

"That bloody glove," Jack muttered. Not a description Ianto would argue with, especially when the distraction gave him the opportunity to scramble down the ladder and reposition it.

Jack blinked at the sudden flurry of activity. Ianto was already halfway up the ladder again, balancing his clipboard awkwardly as he climbed. Jack took his eyes firmly on a tour of the morgue, taking a swift mental tally and shuddering.

"You shouldn't have to do this," he muttered. Repairing the damage Suzie left behind had to be more his own responsibility than Ianto's, regardless of whatever clever label Owen had found to slap onto it. Jack sighed. "At least, not alone," he amended. "I'll help."

Penance, perhaps, but the right thing to do. Still, Jack quailed inside at the thought of how many of the inhabitants of this morgue that he knew, had worked with. It wouldn't be easy seeing their faces again, harder still if he had to do it alone.

"I'll be fine, Sir," Ianto answered. He'd reached the top of the ladder now, putting distance between himself and Jack perhaps, but he hadn't taken the opportunity to flee, and there might even have been compassion in his hastily averted gaze.

Jack was tempted to take the refusal at face value, but he was equally tempted to spend a bit longer in Welshman's company, and he couldn't think of anything more dampening to the libido than examining a roomful of dead bodies, which could only help the new resolve.

Jack squared his shoulders. "It's too much for you to do alone," he announced. "What can I do?"

On the plus side, he _did_ have this view from the bottom of the ladder as a distraction from the task. Or reward. Or a reminder that he was hovering on the edge of something that might be spectacular, except, the Doctor was coming and he couldn't risk it.

Yeah, penance, then.

When Ianto risked another glance down, Jack's eyes were fixed on his feet. Waiting, not leering. So he was, yet again, overreacting. Probably fantasizing, if he was honest, conjuring up something to soothe his ego after being rejected by Lisa and Tosh, and he ought to be ashamed of himself. Jack wasn't going to rip him down from the ladder and lay him out on the morgue floor. Jack was in fact offering to help in an admittedly onerous task. A genuine offer and, in the interest of leaving no hard feelings behind, not to mention unfinished tasks, one that Ianto would be mad to refuse.

"You could shove the ladder along a bit," Ianto suggested, gripping the sides firmly. "Save me climbing up and down every two minutes.

Jack looked at the ladder doubtfully. He didn't see how he could move it without making Ianto fall off. Although that meant he could catch him. And yes, it appeared he really was that desperate, regardless of his suspicion that Ianto had suggested it so he wouldn't have to descend the ladder while Jack was there.

"It's on wheels," Ianto called down. "But I had to lock them because it kept moving when I didn't want it to."

Jack bent to the foot of the ladder, mourning the lost chance to use the good old 'Looks like you've fallen for me' line. It didn't work, as such, but it always got a laugh.

"And if you could take the clipboard, too," Ianto added, "That'd leave both hands free."

It made Jack uneasy to realize how much he wanted to make Ianto laugh.

-XXX-

"That's it," Ianto announced, pushing the last drawer closed.

"We're only half way through," Jack protested. He actually felt disappointed, and was surprised to realize he'd been enjoying himself. They'd swapped quips as they worked, lightening the tension between them along with the depressing task, with Jack keeping his parries carefully on the safe side of innuendo. He'd even indulged in some reminiscing as they encountered familiar names, from years recent enough that Ianto wouldn't question Jack knowing who the people were.

"I did the lower ranks before you arrived, Sir," Ianto replied. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and started climbing down the ladder.

It was testament to how much the interlude had done towards dissolving the tension between them that he didn't react when Jack moved to steady the ladder as he descended. Jack, for his part, stepped carefully away as Ianto's foot reached for the floor, congratulating himself on how well he was ignoring the promptings of his baser instincts.

"I forgot to ask," Jack said idly, falling into step beside Ianto as they made their way back to the main Hub, "How'd it go with the pizza girl?" He didn't know why he was asking really, just something to say, something beyond Torchwood…nothing to do with wanting to find out whether the determined young woman had managed to succeed where Jack continued to fail.

Ianto eyed him narrowly. Peculiarly, the idea of Jack encouraging him to pursue Annie was far more offensive than innuendo ever had been. "So you remember that," he mused. "And yet you don't seem to recall I didn't take that Sunday off after all. And No," he added hurriedly, as Jack's mouth opened to speak. "I don't want to make it up to her next Sunday either. I'm not ready for an involvement with anyone, Sir, not after…." Ianto bit his lip, hard. He'd gotten far too comfortable, working with Jack, chatting with Jack, and he'd damn near mentioned Lisa. Oh, he'd only been going to say how much he missed her, but still, bad mistake, reminding Jack that she'd existed at all. "Coffee mugs," he muttered, and scurried for the refuge of the kitchenette.

"I could go a coffee," Jack agreed, following absently with something stinging inside. "Really, Ianto, can we drop the Sir?" he asked, seeking refuge in the old argument as he leaned against a convenient doorframe. "My name's Jack," he continued, not really listening to what he was saying while eyes traced the motions of Ianto's muscles as he reached for the bag of beans. "It's an easy name. I know you can say it, I've heard you." Jack's brain screamed a frantic warning but it couldn't get past the fixation his eyes had with the way the pinstripes curved across….. "Hell, Ianto, I've heard you _scream _it."

There was one of those silences where time stopped, during which Jack had plenty of time to replay that damning sentence. With appropriate echoes. _Smooth one, Harkness. Change feet, why don't you?_

Jack saw the way the young man's body tensed as he turned, probably expecting Jack to make a grab for him, and who could blame him given that Jack appeared to be blocking the only doorway into the kitchen? If he was the sort of person who felt embarrassed, Jack was sure his face would be scarlet right now.

"Sorry," he mumbled, moving back into the Hub, leaving the doorway clear and wondering how long it would take Ianto to bolt through it. "That was meant to be a joke."

"Was it?" Ianto asked. "I didn't notice the humor, personally." He was stilled backed up against the sink, braced as one does in the face a dangerous animal – or alien. Expecting attack.

Jack retreated quite pointedly, until the back of his legs hit someone's desk. "A joke," he repeated. "Admittedly in poor taste. But then I've never been the world's most politically correct boss."

Ianto actually smiled at the understatement. "You might be the world's least," he agreed.

Jack shrugged awkwardly. "It's just me," he said, somewhat lamely. "I don't really mean anything by it. And….um….despite recent evidence to the contrary, I _can_ take No for an answer," he finished softly. "I just…hell, this is gonna sound so conceited, but I'm used to calling the shots….and the stops." He swallowed heavily. "I guess I just wasn't ready to stop."

Ianto's fingers tightened around the coffee mug that he hadn't yet offered to Jack. It was a hideously awkward conversation to be having, but probably long overdue. Who knew, it might even take a further load off his overburdened conscience. "And I'm not used to….I mean, I don't usually…" He broke off. What was he trying to say, he wondered? _I don't usually sleep my way into a job? I don't usually use people, even with my girlfriend's permission, even for her benefit._

Jack felt very old as he watched Ianto scrutinize his own feet. He'd taken a damaged young man and inflicted yet more damage, and it was time to let him off the hook, for both their sakes. And in that moment Jack truly believed he could do it without further regrets, if only to remove at least one of those shadows from Ianto's eyes.

He leaned forward and took the mug from Ianto's hands, carefully avoiding even the slightest brush of fingers.

"You were experimenting," Jack supplied, taking the mug back to his perch on the desk. "And I was a willing subject, but you satisfied your curiosity and you're ready to move on." Jack smiled weakly, annoyed by the fact that he couldn't meet Ianto's eyes yet. "I guess I just didn't take the hint fast enough."

Ianto nodded, scuffling his feet. He still wasn't sure what he'd been trying to say, but if Jack had come up with something that satisfied _him_, at least, then that would do.

"I guess I'm just not cut out to be a player, Sir," he said. And it was true. Not a player, not a liar. He'd tried, and he was bad at all of it. Without Tosh's help, he'd have failed months ago. And now he'd thrown Tosh's help in her face, and he'd deserve it if she left him to fail Lisa all his own.

Jack watched the shadows play in Ianto's eyes. _Let him off the hook. Let him go._

"But you _were_ so much fun to play with, Jones, Ianto Jones," Jack murmured, with a smile. His usual smile.

Ianto shifted uncomfortably, and forced himself to make eye contact. "It's time the game was ended though, Sir."

Jack set his mug down carefully and brushed his hands together, the soft clap echoing around the room. "So now what?" he asked, his tone businesslike.

"Sir?"

"We still have to work together," Jack prompted. "And having you able to look me in the eye occasionally might help that along. So…"

"I could just keep out of your way," Ianto suggested. "Stay up in the tourism office, perhaps." All the better if they got used to him being out of reach, then they'd been less bothered after he and Lisa were gone. "You did hire me as a guard dog, after all."

Jack chuckled. "No, that was Myfanwy," he disagreed. Myfanwy. Myfanwy and a warehouse and two men plastered together on a cement floor. Jack despaired at himself, just a little, then cleared his throat. "You're the butler, remember?"

"I'm a very good guard dog," Ianto insisted, having concluded Jack shouldn't have to do all the work. "And I'm housebroken."

Jack laughed far more than the joke warranted. But it had worked. The atmosphere between them had noticeably eased, which was well worth a few moments of awkwardness. And being the sort to push his luck, Jack tried a tiny flirt, just to see how far he could go. "But I've got Myfanwy trained to attack on command now. Do you do that?"

Ianto couldn't help laughing. Jack really was incorrigible. But for the first time, the flirting felt like humor instead of pressure. A witty response flew to his tongue, but there it stayed. No further room for misunderstanding.

"Harassment, Sir," Ianto chided instead.

"You always say that," Jack said, shaking his head.

"And you always ignore it," Ianto parried easily.

It sounded harmless enough, but Jack felt something chill inside him. This wasn't the first time that he'd wondered whether there was a plea hidden beneath the harassment banter. A plea he'd ignored.

"I won't anymore," Jack said, voice low and intense. "I promise you that, Ianto. I'll back off."

Ianto returned his gaze levelly, brows quirking, the very picture of skepticism.

Jack spread his hands, unable to prevent a rueful chuckle at how well the infuriating young man knew him. "Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't come back for another try. But I _will _back off when you tell me, from now on. I promise."

Ianto smiled. A genuine smile, if tentative. "Thank you, Sir," he answered. The wave of relief was almost overpowering. Something had finally gone right this evening. It was ended, no hard feelings. No further itch to scratch, biological or otherwise. "And now I think it's time I was getting home."

Jack followed, stopping self-consciously mid-Hub, as if realising that he'd been trailing after Ianto like a lost puppy. Even then, he didn't bother making a secret of the level at which his eyes rested.

"Ianto?" Jack said. Ianto paused, the cog alarm already shrilling from his approach.

"Did you stay behind tonight just to get this sorted?"

Ianto smiled enigmatically. "Yes, Sir," he answered.

It was only after the cog rolled shut behind Ianto that Jack realized he hadn't clarified exactly _what _Ianto wanted sorted – and he wasn't quite convinced it was only the morgue.

* * *

_Thank you for reading. Thank you for your patience._


End file.
